Raining From The Stars
by BlueKitsunebi
Summary: Rain is the latest addition to Wammy's House, and yet, is isolated somehow from the other children...Well, until she makes an unexpected friend in an unexpected way...
1. Chapter 1

The car journey is uncomfortable. Not because the seats are uncommfortable, but because the man who is sat in the front, driving, hasn't said a word to me. I can't even remember his name. Technically, if I were older, I wouldn't need to be in an orphanage anyway. _It's just two years, _I think, whilst listening to the rumble and purr of the sleek black car.

It's December and the clouds hang over the sky like gray smoke...but I like it that way. It's a shame how society doesn't really see the true beauty in everything. Any form of nature or artistry is shunted out and replaced by industrial, man-made slabs of concrete. It's like man is destroying any form of hope for the future.

The lustrous black car grazes to a halt outside a pair of cool, iron gates. Engraved onto a plaque on a stone wall, was the words 'Wammy's House', and the man driving the car peers at me in the rear view mirror before speaking the only words he had spoken to me yet "We're here". I don't even look at him. I just keep my head down and avoid eye contact as much as possible. It's just better that way.

I step out of the warmth of the car onto the bleakness of the pavement and the blue wash of the wind, absorbing the sight of Wammy's House, and wondering what my new life would be like. It can't possibly be any worse than my old life, can it? The man - who is aged at least mid sixties - pulls out my old, battered brown suitcase, and tries to carry it for me. _No way Jose! _I yank the suitcase from his hands allowing his startled expression to bore into me. It's my suitcase and it contains all my memories (some good, some bad) and important relics of the past. It cannot leave my supervision, and even if I'm watching him carry it, I cannot feel completely secure unless it's physically within my grasp. The man almost takes a step back out of surprise, however he manages to regain his unemotional facade. He begins to lead me through the gates and inside the orphanage grounds, whilst I sullenly follow.

As I reluctantly step through the large double doors into the main entrance of Wammy's House, the first thing I notice is the groups of children, standing around and glaring at me. Yes, you heard me right. They weren't innocently staring at me, they were _glaring a_t me. What the hell did I do to them? I swear, never has a bunch of 7-11 year olds looked at me with as much poison as they are doing now. I mentally smile to myself. This is the part when my natural self defence kicks in. I contort my face to give them the most evil, scary look that I can muster. I don't mean scary as in sticking my tongue out and pretending I have fangs, (because that would be weird), I mean a silent, scary. The look that you see on a person's face that immediately makes you want to run away, because you can't quite figure out what it is about them that you find so disturbing. Of course, the children looked worried and walked away. Fast. I would make a brilliant Mr Hyde.

The man from before motions for me to follow him up a flight of large, wooden stairs, having witnessed my scaring of the children.  
I'm definitely not going down in the good books for that. Oh well, he can hate me all he likes, I'm only going to be here for two more measly years. He walks in a professional manner down an old hallway - this building must've been a church, or some kind of ancient mansion once - with me trudging behind, like a slug. We reach a door and he doesn't even hesitate to enter, so it must be his office then. A wooden desk sits near the back wall of the room, and he sits on a chair at the desk, allowing me to stand awkwardly.

"Your real name is Rayne Price, is it not?" He questions, politely.

"Erm, yes" I answer, wondering what on earth was going on.

"Well, you need to try your best to forget that."

_What? _

"Could you please elaborate on that Mr..." I mumble "ermm"

"Just call me Watari, if you please Miss Rayne." He pauses, thinking to himself, before continuing. "Everyone here cannot go by their real name, for safety reasons. I understand that you don't know why yet, but tomorrow, once you've rested, I will explain exactly the reason that you're here. So, we know that your real name is Rayne Price, but you will need to create an alias for yourself."

Now, I'm curious, "What kind of alias? Do you mean that I have to invent a whole new name?"

He shakes his head in a friendly, easy going way and replies "No, no, no. It doesn't have to be a full name. It can be a single word, or even just a single letter, like A, B, C, D and, well, I'm assuming you know how the alphabet goes."

"hmmm" I muse to myself, "A single word or a single letter?"

He nods, kindly. _Maybe he's not as evil as I thought he was._

Since it's for safety reasons, It would be safe to use a word that is similar to my real name, since no one would suspect it. My deep thoughts are interrupted by Watari's thick English accent.

"A lot of the children here go by two alliases. They go by both a single word and a letter which is the first letter of their alias"

I half smile at him and announce "How about Rain. But spelt R,A,I,N rather than the actual spelling of my name. No one would think of that. And I would also like to be known as R."

Watari looks at me, with a reassuring expression like a fatherly figure would, "Very Well, R. From now on, you will no longer be called Rayne Price and will be known as Rain or R. I will organise it so that the data of your true identity is erased, for safety purposes. That includes medical records and previous school attendance."

He stands and meets my stare, signalling that we would be leaving the room soon. Gesturing for me to follow him with my bag, he simply states "Welcome to Wammy's House"

I raise my eyebrows when he isn't looking. _Yes, R. Welcome to Hell._

A/N: I wrote this story about two years ago, and my literary abilities have much improved since then (I hope), so if there are any mistakes or anything that sounds stupid, then please let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

Watari takes me to what is apparently, the dormitory. He stops at the end of the corridor and allows me to catch up to his pace. Smiling at me, he pulls out a key from his inner pocket and presses it into the palm of my hand.

"This is your room" he informs me, gesturing toward the door next to us, "Go ahead, open it"

I pause to look at the old silver key in the palm of my hand, heavy and cold.

"I'm sure your room will be to your liking" Watari reassures me, again flashing the gentle smile of a fatherly figure. _I'm assuming he's the children's favourite._

I open the door easily and it swings open to reveal a comfy looking double bed in the corner, a old wooden wardrobe standing grandly next to a chest of draws. There is a door leading to a small bathroom for this room only and there are plenty of shelves on the walls with a mirror hanging next to them. I set down my case on the wooden floor, and turn to face Watari.

"Thank you" I say, trying to appear polite, but really I just want to be left alone.

"You're welcome, R. Before I leave, I want to tell you that dinner will be served at six downstairs, and breakfast tomorrow morning will be available between seven thirty and eight."

I nod, giving him a small smile.

He nods back to me, "Enjoy your stay, R".

I hear the door click softly shut as he leaves.

_Finally!_

I haul my case up on to the double bed, and pull it open. Everything is still safe and secure. It's a relief that nothing's broken. It takes me a while to fold and hang my clothes, which still smell frighteningly like the fabric conditioner that Mum used. I dump my toiletry bag in the small bathroom and I place my makeup bag and hair straighteners on top of the chest of drawers. You would be surprised about how long it takes for someone to put away books and jewelry and other items.

Finally, I carefully remove the important relics I mentioned earlier: A ring that belonged to my grandmother, and a hand painted genuine russian doll. I gently place the ring on my finger where it belongs and I designate a space on one of the shelves for my russian doll. At last, the only thing that's left in the case is my teddy which was an old birthday present. I would never let anyone know that I still love my teddy, and that I sleep hugging him, but I guess it doesn't really matter anymore.

If Watari thinks I'm going to dinner, he couldn't be more wrong. I refuse to eat surrounded by screaming kids, especially since I would be the only one who has no clue as to why I'm here. I just can't stand being around too many humans.

Lying on the bed, I begin to daydream about life in general. I should be upset that I'm now an orphan, but if I said that, it would be a lie. I'm in a netherworld between happy and sad; I just don't feel anything at all. I suppose, it would be a different matter if my parents were different, and the circumstances were different. But nothing will change what happened. Nothing can. If you look at the situation from a more logical perspective, my being in an orphanage now, is the best thing that could've happened in terms of child safety.

But that's another story entirely.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Bang!_**

What on Earth?

_**Bang!**_

My eyes are thrown open by the persistent hurricane of noise coming from the window. I had no idea that I'd even fallen asleep. _Wait. Where am I? _I take in the unfamiliar surroundings through groggy brown eyes, before the surge of memories from yesterday's fiasco with Watari, the bitchy glaring children, and the whole of Wammy's House in general.

_Ah, yes. I remember now. I'm surrounded by children, or in other words, I'm in my worst nightmare._

_**Bang!**_

I turn, slowly, with a hideously evil grin, to the source of the racket that disrupted my sleep. As it turns out, a black crow thought it would be hilarious to try and smash the window pane with its beak. I cannot decide if the crow is merely stupid or just plain rude. Either way, I send it a death glare, causing it to take flight.

_Yes, that's probably the safest thing to do, after the mood you've gone and put me in. _

I glance at my watch that lies, idly on the bedside table. _8:30. _Sighing moodily I continue to make my way off the bed and into the bathroom. _No breakfast for Rayne then...Oh, I'm called Rain now aren't I?...Oh, wait, whichever spelling, it sounds the same in my head so why am I still debating this? _

I take a well needed shower, brush my teeth, dry and then straighten my hair, like usual, before putting on my usual makeup. I pull on a long sleeved black T-shirt with a low neckline (because, normal necklines make me feel like someone is strangling me), and a pair of black denim shorts and black tights. I finally pull on my most favourite pair of matte black Doc Martens and my lovely black zip up hoodie. It may sound like a lot of black, but when it's one of your favourite colours, you can never have enough black. And to be honest, when I wear it, I feel like a ninja. And seriously, who wouldn't want to be a ninja?

When I step out into the hallway, I lock the door behind me, wondering how to get around the place. I end up re-tracing my steps from yesterday, in an attempt to find Watari's office. Maybe he can explain now why I'm here. I swear it was around here somewhere.

_Is it this door, or the next door? _

"You may enter, R" The voice was muffled through the door, but it was unmistakably, Watari's voice.

_How did he know I was here? I'm supposed to be a ninja!_

I slowly twist the doorknob and push open the large door. Watari is waiting inside for me, with his hands together on his desk.

He smiles politely, "Good morning. I hope you slept well and enjoyed some breakfast"

"Ah, yes" I lie. I didn't want to mention about the breakfast, in case he make too much of a fuss and drew too much attention to me.

"And now you want to know why you are here, in a place where you have to go by an alias?" he guesses.

"It would be helpful to know, thanks"

He breathes deeply and continues, "Do you know, Rain, of the greatest detective in the world?"

"L" I beam. Of course I've heard of L. I admire his intellect, his achievements, his wit and pretty much everything he's ever done. He's not been around for long, but already within the past few years, he's made such a reputation for himself, solving all the most difficult cases that were considered "unsolvable", without even showing his face. He is my inspiration. I can only dream of being as intelligent and as mysterious as him.

Watari appears to be genuinely happy "Ah, well that's a start. Some of the children here had never heard of L before, and it was slightly worrying"

"What does L have to do with Wammy's House?" I ask.

"Well, the reason I established this orphanage, was to collect the most gifted children and raise them to achieve great things." He pauses, "That was when I found L, as an orphan. He was being raised here, when I realised that he was the most gifted of all the children. So technically, that was when the great detective, L, was born."

I absorb Watari's words, _L came here? _"I see", I murmur, more to myself than him.

"I realise that L is only human, and will not last forever. That is why you are here. That is why all the children in this orphanage are here. Because you are all gifted individuals.

_I'm gifted? Well, that's a first..._

"So this is an orphanage for gifted children?" I inquire, subconsciously knowing what Watari is actually getting at. He basically just wants to create a line of super detectives who are going to follow on after L.

"Wammy's house is an orphanage for children who are in line to succeed L." He summarises everything he is trying to say, "The most intelligent, most gifted children are chosen, by L himself to be his successors. And you, Rain, are a candidate, along with all the other children in this orphanage, to succeed L."

I don't even know how to react. I shouldn't even be here. I'm not even remotely intelligent. "Wait, so what makes you think I'm gifted?"

Watari smiles, excitedly, "We took a look at you schooling records from since you were 5, up until now. We were quite impressed at your achievements. But, when you were told to take that IQ test before we brought you here, we were the ones who had actually requested that, just to make sure."

The recollection of images flashes through my brain, in a whirl of colour and IQ test questions. _I was wondering why the police officers made me to do that. It seemed pointless at the time. _

"Wow..." I say, completely stunned at the new knowledge.

Watari nods and stands from his chair, "You should know that I will be leaving later today, as I will be joining L"

I nod hurriedly, taking the hint that I should leave. As I am about to step through the door Watari calls from behind me, "Rain, You should look downstairs. I heard from Roger that L is currently talking to the other children. He may have finished his speech but, he will still be answering questions for a while."

_L is downstairs? This is probably the single weirdest, most bizarre day in the entirety of my life..._

I stumble awkwardly down the hallway and clomp down the dark wood of the staircase, to find that there are no children around. I wonder where they all are. Wherever the children are, L must be too.

Suddenly, I hear a burst of laughter come from the other end of a corridor, followed by a synthetic voice that I can only assume comes from a computer.

_L?_

Trudging through the corridor, I enter the room to see a large group of children sat in front of a laptop on a table. The laptop screen is completely white apart from a single, elegant, letter L displayed across the centre.

_Of course_.

I am thankfully greeted by no stares, no glares and no comments. I don't think anyone notices me, as I make my way to the back wall and sit, knees up with my back against the wall, subconsciously wishing that L, the world's greatest detective, would secretly notice my presence.


	4. Chapter 4

I sigh to myself. I should be hungry by now, but truthfully, I'm not really too bad. Back at home, I used to only eat breakfast purely to stop my mum from complaining that I'll become anorexic. I should also be up there asking questions like the others. Most people would become so excited to ask questions, that they would reach the point that they are practically dancing in front of the laptop begging for attention. But, I think it's clear by now that I am not like most people. My head is telling me to break through my crippling shyness and ask a question like the other children, but my heart is keeping me within my personal bubble, reminding me that I can receive all the answers just by sitting and listening to L's mystical words of wisdom. However I am unaware at this point that the great detective has already noticed my presence.

I continue to sit at the back of the room, pretending to play with my grandmother's ring, but actually I am paying close attention to the perfect, synthetic voice coming out of the speakers. I'm not the only one doing this. A boy is also at the back, sitting on his legs, apparently distracting himself with what appears to be several Rubix Cubes and a jigsaw puzzle. He must be about thirteen or so, but even then, he looks younger than his years. He is clothed in what seems to be white flannel pyjamas of some sort, and white socks. His hair is curled and pure white, so I'm presuming he has albinism. His body language also suggests that he is also absorbing L's words, rather than mindlessly asking questions. Occasionally his eyes shift to another boy in the room, suggesting that this other boy is his enemy.

The other boy is doing the same as me and the boy in white, except that instead of sitting at the back, he is leaning against the wall, chomping on a bar of chocolate. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that this other boy was a female, due to his honey blonde hair having been cut into a perfect bob. He seems to be the complete opposite of the boy in white, as he is wearing mainly black. Hmmm... People are interesting.

I stare at the jewels in the ring, presumably sapphires due to the cold, hardness of the stones and the natural inclinations in the surface. I had been told, as a child that my grandmother had been in a secret relationship with a rich bachelor, but his parents prevented his marriage to her because of the social class system. This ring was his only present to her, and she was forced to marry a grocer instead of the bachelor. She gave this ring to my mum before she died, and requested that my mum gives it to her eldest daughter which ended up being me.

I am brought back to the present with a jolt, as I remember exactly where I am. L is talking about the reasons for his bad handwriting, which achieves a burst of laughter from the children.

"Any other questions?" L asks

A girl in the group eagerly speaks up,

"Can you tell me if there's something that you're not good at, or maybe something that you're scared of?"

The question seems to throw L off slightly, "Something I'm scared of?" he muses.

A boy in the group mocks the girl's question, saying "What? Yeah Right, L's not scared of anything"

L on the other hand, ignores the boy's comment and answers "Monsters, I suppose"

This causes some giggles and smiles in the audience of children, but L is taking the question seriously and launches into a powerful and detailed explanation about the real monsters in this world.

"There are many types of monsters in this world: monsters who cause trouble without showing themselves, monsters who abduct children, monsters who devour dreams, monsters who suck blood...and then, monsters who always tell lies. Lying monsters are a real nuisance: they are much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart; they eat even though they have never experienced hunger; they study even though they have no interest in academics; they seek friendship even though they do not know how to love. If I were to encounter such monsters, I would likely be eaten by them...because in truth, I am that monster."

There is a loud silence in the room as everyone is frozen, dumbfounded by the sheer truth and brilliance of those words. I can still hear them echoing in my head. _No understanding of the humans, eating despite lack of hunger, studying without a real interest in the subject, and seeking friendship but not really knowing how to love another person... _I cannot help but be stunned by those words. I cannot help but believe them. I cannot help but relate to them.

L has obviously become aware of the silence in the room and decides to break it.

"That is enough questions for now. You should all continue with your day." The synthetic voice rings out.

The children slowly drag themselves from the ground and shuffle out of the room. The boy in white and the boy with the chocolate are (other than me) the last to leave.

Before I can exit into the corridor, the synthetic voice speaks again,

"Where do you think you're going?"

I freeze in my steps, unable to think clearly. _Does he mean me?_

"Girl in black. Please return to the room." The voice speaks.

I turn and a man next to the laptop, who I'm assuming to be Roger, nods at me, confirming that L is speaking to me. _He's speaking to me...He's speaking to me...He's speaking to me! _My head is racing all over the place and my hands are shaking violently with nerves.

I attempt to walk back into the centre of the room and sit on the floor, in clear view of the camera, but I find that my legs are wobbling like a blancmange, which isn't a good look. _So much for being a ninja._

I sit with my arms around my stomach defensively, and my knees up. This is probably the most exciting and crazy thing that has ever happened to me. _I can't breathe...I can't breathe...I can't breathe._

"Roger, you may leave us" L speaks.

_He wants to be alone with me? _I don't understand what L is doing and why he wants to speak with me. He doesn't even know me. Why is he making Roger leave? _Rain, he's not actually alone with you. You're alone in a room with a laptop._

As soon as Roger is out of earshot, L begins to speak,"What is your name?"

My thoughts are so scrambled that it takes me a few seconds before I can find the breath to answer, "Rain, but you can call me R"

"I don't like R. It rather boring." L says, simply.

I don't actually know how I'm supposed to respond to that.

"Rain, I have never seen you before at the orphanage. I'm assuming that you're new?"

"Erm...yes. I came here yesterday" I scratch my head, nervously.

"Are you aware of why you're here and who I am?"

I pause for a second, without having a reason why. "Yes, Watari told me this morning why I'm here. But I knew who you are anyway."

L appears to be amused by this "Oh, you did?"

"Yes, I admire all of your work as a detective."

L hesitates and his synthetic voice is quiet, "Why thank you."

"You're welcome."

There is an awkward silence in the room, before I decide to break it by blurting out my thoughts, "Did you mean what you said about monsters?"

"yes, I did. But what kind of monsters are you thinking of?"

I breathe deeply, "Lying monsters." I pause for a second, "I agree with what you said about the scum of society being the true monsters in the world, but in truth, when you described lying monsters, you basically said a description of me...and I've never really thought of myself as a monster"

L chuckles slightly, which is surprising, as it breaks his usual, placid tone, "I'm glad that you agree about the other monsters. But to answer your question, yes I meant what I said. Therefore, you, Rain are like me. A monster."

It is clear that L doesn't really know how to make people feel better about themselves as he just literally called me a freak of society. Wonderful.

L decides to change the subject slightly, "How old are you?" he asks.

I frown, "sixteen", before I decide to reflect the question back at him, "How old are _you_?"

L answers quickly, "why do you ask?"

"Because there have been theories that you are an older man around the age of 40, but I can tell by your vocabulary, tone of voice and just the sense of your answers that you are a lot younger than that. I can tell that you break your own stereotype"

L doesn't answer. After ten seconds of complete, awkward silence, I begin to stand, and it becomes obvious that I'm about to leave.

"I'm eighteen" The synthetic voice finally speaks.

My steps falter in surprise, and I turn my expression toward the laptop, with my brows lifted in shock. I know that I said that L must be young, but I didn't expect him to be a teenager.

"_Eighteen?" _I gasp, "That must be a lie."

L hurriedly answers before I can try to leave again, "It's the truth. I am, in fact, eighteen"

I raise my eyebrows and eventually shrug, "Well, L - who is only eighteen - , I should probably go. I didn't eat breakfast this morning."

"You're hungry?" L asks.

"Not particularly, but I should probably eat anyway. I can't just starve to death"

L seems to be thoughtful, "Hmm...Well in that case Rain, I will definitely be keeping in contact with you since there is a 95% chance that you don't have any friends so far."

I give the laptop a sideways glance, "It's that obvious?"

"Yes, it is"

I bat the dust off my clothes, "Goodbye L, who is apparently only eighteen."

L waits until I am just in the doorway, but still in earshot, before he speaks his last words to me. The words cause my muscles to stiffen and my bones to lock into place, before the laptop shuts down by itself,

"Goodbye, Rain...the monster"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As WildfireDreams pointed out in the reviews, this is supposedly set around 6 years before the Kira case (and I'm assuming before the BB case - I don't know exactly when that took place). In the Relight movie, Near's flashback didn't really specify how long ago that actually was, just to provide some clarity, but I swear you could see Beyond Birthday hanging around the group of children. Anyway, thank you for reading xx **

L's words from his conversation with me yesterday are still lingering in my head, even as I'm attempting to swallow toast. I rip a small piece of toast off the slice and chew on it. I normally eat by ripping off small pieces and eating them. It just feels less barbaric than wolfing the whole piece of toast down.

The dining hall is filled with children of all ages, including girls and boys of my age, but they all look spiteful and the children my age are exactly the kind of people that I would normally try to avoid. They are the kind of people that would wolf down entire pieces of toast without actually taking the time to appreciate the flavour. I swear one of the girls just glared at me. Yes, she did, and now she is giggling to her idiot friends about it. Why would anyone do that? I don't understand why someone would giggle and gossip about looking at someone. Am I missing something? Yes, now all of her friends are giggling and looking at me. This is why I don't converse with people. This is why I don't understand humans. I am having difficulty preventing myself from slamming my head against the table.

Suddenly I feel something gently hit my ankle. _Huh?_ I peer down at my foot to see a small, bright red ball bounce off my black converses with blue laces. _Where did this come from? _I pick up the ball and crane my neck to look around and see if I can find the owner of the ball. I sense a pair of eyes on me and I turn to lock eyes with the albino boy in white from yesterday. He is sitting at the back of the room again, on the floor. It doesn't look like he's had any breakfast since there is no plate, bowl or crumbs near him. He is wearing the same outfit as yesterday and he has one finger twirling around a piece of his curled hair. Now that I'm really looking at him, I realise that he is clearly a lot younger than I originally thought he was. Yesterday, I obviously didn't take the time to actually examine his face, since I merely gave his general appearance a once over from the corner of my eyes, and I noticed his body language through discreet glances. However now, I can see the youth in his features. It has become blindingly clear that he must be younger than ten. In fact, it's so glaringly obvious that I feel like a complete idiot that I didn't notice before.

I jerk the ball as if to ask him if it is his. He nods after three seconds, confirming that it is his ball. _Who else? He's never without some form of 3D colourful amusement. _I roll the ball back to him and he immediately leans out to pick it up, before beginning to play with it in his tiny hands. He seems happy enough, so I quickly turn back around again, to continue with eating my toast.

Again, something knocks into my ankle, and I peer down again to see the red ball, back with me. This time I grasp the ball firmly and fully turn around to face the boy in white again. Just as I suspected, he is staring at me, his expression placid. I harshly roll the ball back to him, with enough force that it hits him in the leg. _Oops...It wasn't my intention to be mean to a child. _I sullenly face my meal again, wondering where he is going with this. There is no way he accidentally rolled it to me twice. Once, maybe. But not twice. Especially not in the same place.

As I expected, I feel something bang into my ankle again. Really? Three times? I don't even have to look at the ball to know where it has come from. I grab the ball and my plate and stride up to the boy in white. I sit on the floor next to him, and hold out the ball,

"Is there something you want?"

He doesn't answer my question, but instead decides to take the other slice of toast off of my plate and eat it. I admit, this took me aback a little, as he just stole my food. However, I place the plate next to him, and say simply,

"Don't make crumbs"

The boy in white stops eating and looks at me with large grey eyes. He glances at the toast in his hand and then back up at me, suggesting that he feels guilty for eating it.

I chuckle slightly at this, "It's okay, you can eat it."

His placid face suddenly breaks slightly, as a tiny smile cracks into his expression, before he continues to munch at the toast. I decide that I should probably leave him be to play with his ball. I'm guessing that he wouldn't want me around. Standing and brushing the dust off my clothes, I begin to leave but I feel a tug on my skirt, which causes me to freeze in my tracks. I spin to find that the boy in white has grasped hold of my clothes and has finished the toast.

"Thank you" he mumbles quietly.

I nod, glad to be of service, before heading back to my room.

I must appear antisocial, but I don't really want to make friends with any of these people, since I'm only going to be here for two years, and then I can inherit any money my parents left and eventually set up a home and a new life for myself. I press the door closed behind me, trying not to draw attention to myself. I'm not going to lock it though, because I've got a feeling that the boy in white will be back to throw red balls at my comfortably on my bed, I continue with a picture of a crow that I started a while ago. I admit, I'm pretty pleased with it, bearing in mind that my old art teacher virtually rejected me from her classes.

There is a knock at the door and the man who I've assumed to be Roger, walks in holding a purple wrapped gift with a black ribbon tied around it.

I jump up with surprise at the sight before me, "What's that?"

Roger holds it out to me, "It's been posted to the orphanage, but it's for you. It only got here ten minutes ago."

I stand and hesitantly take the gift from him. The translucent black ribbon and the smoothness of the purple wrapping paper feel pleasant in my hands. Judging by the fact that the paper is folded and taped in odd places, whoever wrapped this clearly needs help wrapping gifts in the future.

"Do you have any idea who it's from?" Roger asks me, evident curiosity and nosiness springing in his eyes.

I have a sneaky suspicion of who it may be from, but I refuse to tell Roger this, and so I shake my head slowly, incredulously.

I look up at Roger, giving him an unintentionally hard stare, "Thank you"

Roger takes the obvious hint and retreats through the doorway, closing the door behind him. I wait until I can no longer see his shadow under the door before I examine the gift and the messy wrapping. It is surprisingly heavy.

I set it down on the desk and walk away, perching on the edge of the bed, like a bird. I have an inkling of who it could be from, but the real question is why? Why would I be receiving a gift? Half of me is fighting the urge to satisfy my curiosity and open it, yet the other half is scared of what could be inside. I want to know what it is, but I also want to sustain the mystery.

At that moment, the door flies open with a bang and someone small tumbles onto the floorboards. I jump up at the sudden noise, and my first instinct is to stand in front of the purple present on the table, shielding it from view. The mop of blonde hair and the black t-shirt look familiar, and as the small human stands on its feet, I find myself recognising the small person to be the boy in black. Like the boy in white, I notice that he is also younger than ten, but his features suggest that he is slightly older - maybe by a year - than the boy in white.

I fold my arms and give him a disapproving look, "Can I help you?" The ice in my voice is evident to him.

He looks up at me with blue eyes. His expression is nervous, but brave and confident at the same time. I'm not in the right mindset to frighten children, and he's clearly too anxious to answer, so I just roll my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I inquire, not actually caring much.

The boy in black shifts around on his feet showing signs of nerves, but he answers with grit, "I'm fine. I've never seen you around here before, are you new?"

I raise my eyebrows, "Do you really care?"

He looks at the floor near my feet, "I guess I should say I'm sorry for falling into your room, even if I don't like you. It was inevitable really; Matt and I was running..." He trails off, jabbering on with an explanation about the physics around his falling through the door .

_Doesn't he realise that I'm not going to punish him?_

I sigh and reach over to a draw on the bedside table, and pull out an unopened bar of chocolate from inside. I was saving it for a rainy day, but to be honest I'm not really in the mood for chocolate, and besides, I know he likes chocolate because I've noticed that he always seems to be eating some. His face lights up like a light bulb at the sight of the chocolate, and I give him an almost smile. I hold out the chocolate, waiting for him to take it and leave me in peace. He reluctantly takes it, even though he knows he wants to, and I assume that he would leave immediately. However, instead, he completely throws my mind off balance.

Holding the bar of chocolate in his hand, he reaches up and throws his arms around my waist, squeezing me until I can't breathe anymore. _Gee, it's only a bar of chocolate. Why is he so thankful? _I don't actually know how to react to this sudden gesture of affection, so I just pat his head. Yes, you heard me correctly; I'm patting his head because I'm an insensitive, socially awkward moron.

The small boy in black lets go as quickly as he hugged me, and runs through the door and down the hallway before I can even mutter "You're Welcome".

I stand, still in surprise, for a full seven seconds before I remember the other thing on my mind: the gift of mystery. I stride over to it, unsure of whether to open it or not. I could always open it later; it's only 9 o'clock, but whether I am able to wait until later is an issue.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a small gift tag dangling off the side. Giving the gift tag my full attention, I scrutinise the scruffy handwriting on the paper. I don't recognise the handwriting, but I also don't expect to recognise it, as the name clumsily written on the pure white of the paper, only increases my inkling of who the sender could be. A memory of a reference to bad handwriting flashes through my mind as I read the name over and over again, absorbing the sight,

_**"Rain"**_

It can't be anyone I knew from the past, because if that were the case, it would say "Rayne Price". It can't be Watari, because despite having two aliases, he seems to prefer to call me "R". I only know of one person who likes to call me "Rain" instead of "R", but even then, why a present? Isn't this a little creepy?

I shut my eyes for a second and take a deep breath. I can't wait until later. I'm not a very patient person. I just can't.

I carefully untie the ribbon (Thinking that I should keep it, since it's actually quite a nice ribbon). I pull apart the wrapping, slowly, almost scared. There are two layers of wrapping paper? I pull apart the second layer of wrapping paper, only to find another layer. Really? Three layers of wrapping paper? Is it really necessary? The paper feels thin, so there must only be three layers. I pull on the third and final layer, to find that the thing that I was scared to open, this mystery present, is actually a small laptop, alongside a sleek, black mobile phone.

Who would send me a laptop and a phone? I carefully pull out the laptop and place it on the desk, next to the pile of wrapping. Moving back toward the wrapping, I am about to throw the scraps of paper away, when my eye catches sight of a folded sheet of paper inside the carnage.

With slightly shaking hands, I open the sheet of paper, knowing exactly who my mystery sender is. My inkling was correct. I should've seen the signs: The choice of alias, the laptop, the bad handwriting. It all makes sense, but I honestly didn't take him seriously.

_**"Dear Rain, I did mention yesterday that I intend to remain in contact, however I had to ensure that the other children do not find out about this and become jealous, so I thought that a phone and a laptop for your room would be fitting to ensure that communication is possible - L"**_

My hands continue to shake from the shock of such a bizarre series of events, as I re-read the words on the page. _He really was serious..._

My eyes catch I small piece of writing right at the bottom of the paper:

**_"P.S. Although I also mentioned this yesterday, I'm sorry for my bad handwriting"_**


	6. Chapter 6

I had set up the laptop after having re-read the note about 500 times, and now according to the clock it's 8:50pm. I feel quite comfortable, lying on my bed, reading my copy of The Catcher In The Rye. A friend from the past had suggested that I read it, and now it's a favourite that I cannot stop reading, purely because Holden's way of thinking is surprisingly quite amusing.

The sky through the window has been dark for hours and I rise briefly to push open the window and throw my head out. The night-time breeze is cool and fresh and the trees whisper amongst themselves in the wind's dying breath. The pitch black sky is littered with stars, ablaze, and for one split moment, I wish that I could join them. Sighing with hopelessness, I pull back from the window, rejoining the heat of the room, but I leave the window open, like I did back at home.

I try throwing myself back onto the bed with the book, but something isn't right. I feel eyes upon me. Don't get me wrong, I usually feel this paranoid; it's a symptom of the disorder, but it's never usually this pronounced unless there actually is someone watching me. The hairs on my skin prickle with the sinister air that surrounds me, engulfing me. This is like what happens in movies isn't it? I am expecting Freddy Krueger to jump out at any moment.

I prop myself upright using one arm and direct my attention to different points of the room, my vision circling in every direction, like a panorama. My vision glazes over the desk and the laptop and the chair, and... _The laptop! _I do a double take on the laptop and the sudden shock throws my arm out of balance and I fall, with full force, off the edge of the bed.

"Ahh!" I scream at the top of my lungs, as I hit the floorboards with a thwack. I had hit my head on the bed frame as I fell and already I can feel it throbbing with pain. However, ignoring the pain, my first instinct is to sit up and stare at the laptop with wide, dinner plate eyes.

The screen of the laptop is no longer the vacant black colour, and is now filled with a grey-white fuzz. The whiteness is only broken by the familiar letter L in the centre that could only mean one thing: the world's greatest detective is my stalker.

There is an awkward silence that is broken by a knock on the locked door. _Oh, I screamed didn't I?_

"Are you okay?" The voice of a little girl rings out. I expect that she's approximately aged seven, blonde hair, likes pink.

I crawl toward the door, and clamber to my feet before unlocking it, and opening it in a certain way that she could see me, but not my laptop stalker. Hey, what do you know? A tiny little girl stands in front of the door, with blonde curly pigtails, wearing small, pink pyjamas. _I must be good at this._

"We heard you yell and then there was a bang" she mumbles, anxiously chewing on her index finger.

I nod, and explain clearly, "It's okay, I just fell off my bed" I give her a fake smile, "No cuts or bruises though." I add, glancing at my arms.

She peers up at me and grins her little girl smile, before beaming "okay! That's good" and skipping off to tell her gossipy group of friends that it's all good. _Of course it's all good to children. No murder, no violence, no hate. Everything is just a perfect fairytale world filled with rainbows and unicorns, _I think to myself bitterly, but then I remember that I'm in an orphanage filled with geniuses, so I probably shouldn't be so patronising.

I shut the door with a click and fasten the lock with haste, preparing to face the greatest detective in the world. L is still observing the situation through the laptop, as I trudge back into his line of vision. I sit on the bed and touch my throbbing head with my fingers. yep, I'll have a bruise by tomorrow.

"Are you alright?"

L's voice is different. Is this his natural voice? It is monotone, and quiet but still thoughtful with a slight air of mystery.

I answer his question with another question, "How long were you watching me?" My voice is shaking with a mixture of surprise and fear.

"Well..." L hesitates, deep in thought, "I saw you reading for a minute, and then you went to the window before going back to your bed, which was when you saw me...So, I'd say that I've been here for approximately seven minutes"

Now I realise what is different: He's not using a synthetic voice. His voice is pleasant and smooth, with a slight bored tone to it which only makes it more interesting.  
"This is your normal voice, isn't it?" I query, before adding, "Why aren't you using the synthetic voice, like usual?"

L doesn't even hesitate to answer, but he actually sounds amused, "There is a 99.5% chance that you're not going to kill me"

I raise my eyebrows, "And the Wammy's House orphans would?"

He chuckles lightly, "No, they just like it when I use the famous 'L' voice, and besides, I don't think it would be very friendly to use a synthetic voice with you, bearing in mind that this is a conversation, not an interrogation"

I laugh, my voice still shaking, "How did you know that I wasn't getting dressed or something?"

L takes his time before answering this one. He probably knows that If he phrases this the wrong way, it could end badly, "Well, I didn't know if you would be getting dressed, but I assumed that since there is only a small risk that you would be indecent, It would be a risk that I'm willing to take."

I really don't know how to answer to that one.

"That book, The Catcher In The Rye, is it your favourite?"

I pick it up, waiting about two full seconds before murmuring, "Yes"

L doesn't give any leeway with the questions, "And that picture on the side, there, you drew that?"

I place my book back on my bed and focus on the drawing of the crow, which L seems to like judging by his tone of voice. "Yes I drew that"

"It's fascinating...very realistic...very detailed" He muses to himself, before his voice becomes louder and directed at me, "Your skills with a pencil are impeccable. If I were to ask politely enough, would you agree to teach me?"

I furrow my brow, curiously, "Teach you?"

L is entertained by this topic, as his voice is suddenly filled with excitement and mischief, "Yes, I am asking if you, Rain, would teach me how to draw?"

I grin like a devious elf, "Ahh, so it turns out that I know how to do something that the world famous L doesn't?" I chuckle to myself, "This is certainly an interesting situation"

"Is it possible?" L inquires, slightly annoyed at the fact that I am better than him at something.

"Hmm" I answer, "It may be possible, but it would be difficult since you're not right here. I could just go through how to draw things and you would have to try and copy what I do, or use the same techniques..." I mutter details to myself, not really answering L's question.

"So?" L is evidently not very patient.

I take a breath and lean back against the far wall, "Yes, it could be possible if I were to go through techniques and if you were to copy, on your own, without my assistance"

I had not anticipated a situation like this, but then again, I don't really think of myself as much of an artist either. My father's voice rings in my head with the image of disapproval on his face, _"__Stick to something you're actually good at" _

There is a long, drawn out silence as I remember how my father crushed my dreams of creativity and spat on them. _So he was also a monster in society._

L's smooth, calm voice disrupts my thinking and the silence, "Rain, there is a 92% chance that you still haven't made any friends yet."

I glare at the laptop in irritation, "So?" I hate admitting that I have no current friends.

I can imagine L shrugging, lackadaisically behind the laptop, "What I'm trying to convey is that your attitude prevents you from making friends, and any friends you currently have are being pushed away."

I almost laugh at that, but when I speak my voice is calm however the deadly ring in my tone is clear, "I'm well aware that my attitude to life stinks, but what makes you think that I want to make friends with people? For all you know, I'm quite happy with my life the way it is."

He pauses, "Are you happy?"

I turn away, leaving the question lingering in the air. Truthfully, I have no specific answer to that; How is one supposed to know if they're happy?

"Rain, how do you see me?" L asks, ignoring the previous question, his voice almost inaudible.

I frown in puzzlement, "What do you mean?"

L's voice suggests that he is deep in thought, "Do you consider me...as a friend?"

My eyes divert from the laptop screen and my arms clamp around my knees, "So far, I barely know you...but I'm not really the kind of person you'd want to be friends with. Although I'm a little moody, and I'm relatively nice once you get past that, even I've done my fair share of terrible things..."

"Like what? What do you mean by that?"

Again, I refuse to answer. My distress must be visible to him, because he closes the dark conversation immediately, "There is an 87% chance that you are in need of sleep, so I will leave you in peace now"

I nod at the screen, unsmiling.

"Goodnight, Rain the monster" He says, with an almost comical tone, before he somehow shuts the laptop down. Obviously he has a knack for hacking into laptops and such as he clearly has free reign over this one.

I turn of the lamp on my bedside table, and curl into a ball under the duvet. Reaching for my teddy bear, I feel the power of sleep pressing down on me, before I succumb to the pressure and close my eyes.

_I really wish he'd stop referring to me as a monster._


	7. Chapter 7

I am sharply pulled from the heaven of sleep by the sudden sound of a long, drawn out voice, with a swirl of boredom in it somewhere.

"Good morning" The voice says, in a clear monotone, as if he's been awake for hours.

Even through the layer of sleep fogging my mind, I still recognise the voice to be the voice of L.

"No" I answer, rolling over to face the wall

I hear L sigh, annoyed and slightly depressed.

"I wanted to wake you up early so that you would have no excuse for missing breakfast" He informs me.

"Piss off" I mumble, trying to block out the creeping feeling of paranoia as I feel him watching me sleep.

L is silent for a second before I hear a smooth, muffled chuckle coming from the laptop, "Is that how you speak to someone you admire?"

I sit up in bed, resisting the urge to throw my beloved teddy bear at the laptop. I glare at the laptop, evilly, hoping that L would get the message that I'm not a morning person, and I'm definitely not in the mood for a tit for tat with L.

"Its 7:00am now, so you have half an hour before breakfast to brush your hair, play with makeup, cover yourself in perfume, model dresses and do whatever strange things that girls do nowadays."

I narrow my eyes at the screen, "Hmm, funny man"

_It seems that even L has a sense of humour._

I throw back the duvet and grab a towel and some clothes, before heading into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The shower only lasts ten minutes, but the water feels refreshing and relaxing. That is, until I remember that I have L in my room watching me getting ready for the day...which is a bit weird.

I have no choice but to dress in the bathroom, considering the circumstances. _Damn! _I forgot to grab a shirt. This is the only time when I actually have someone in my room, and I forget to grab a shirt. How did I make it this far in life without dying from stupidity? How did I even get into an orphanage for clever children?

I grab the towel, wrapping it around my top half, thoroughly making sure to cover all distinct female areas. _This is going to be awkward _I think, before opening the door and blushing furiously at the sight of L still there. I power through my humiliation, by striding across the room to the chest of drawers, clutching madly at the towel.

"Well this is interesting" L muses, clearly holding back a laugh.

"Shut up" I stomp on, refusing to look at the laptop, out of sheer embarrassment.

I yank open a drawer, pulling out the first t-shirt I see. It's old, but it'll do. I then march over to the laptop, turning it around to face the wall before I wrench on the shirt with anger and embarrassment surging through my veins, burning them like acid. I would turn the laptop back around, but I don't think I can face L after this fiasco.

It only takes me fifteen minutes to dry my hair and straighten it, like usual, which leaves me five minutes to apply my usual makeup. I would give up wearing makeup entirely, but I without it, I just feel ugly, despite what my old friends used to say.

"Is this really necessary?" I hear L's voice emitted from the other side of the room.

To be honest, I forgot he was there.

"No, it okay now." I tell him, sliding the laptop back around.

"You do realise I would've just looked away" He mumbles.

"You say that, but how can I trust that you wouldn't have looked anyway."

L thinks about this, "You're right" he says, "You can't trust me."

"By the way," I mention, "could you stop referring to me as a monster. It's really not good for my self esteem."

"Why? What are you going to do about it, Rain? I'm behind a screen and you don't even know what I look like, so you can't stop me."

I sigh, "Well, what _do _you look like?"

L laughs slightly, "I'm attractive, if that's what you're asking."

The frustration at that comment fills my brain, causing my anger to flare up again until I have to remind myself that normal people don't throw laptops out of windows.

I pass a sideways glance to the laptop, whilst I gather my book, my jacket and some boots. To be honest, I'm wondering if the boy in white is going to be throwing balls at me again. I really don't understand why he did it yesterday. Does he want me to be his friend? Is it because he has recognised that I don't have any friends either?

I begin to head toward the door, after calling out "You can stop being the breakfast police now, I going down to eat."

I grit my teeth in irritation, as I hear the amused words "Okay then, monster" before the laptop screen blinks to black and L disappears.

**A/N: Little short I'm afraid. My apologies.**


	8. Chapter 8

After the mood that L has put me in, it takes me all my effort not to remind the children surrounding me that Santa doesn't exist. _Stupid L! Why does he always need to have the last word!_

My heavy Doc Martens clomp along the floor causing any fragile objects to tremble dangerously. I can almost picture Roger's disapproving glare if I caused anything to break. I scuffle into the dining hall, where lots of children of all ages sit on tables and stand in clumps next to walls. I've started recognising familiar faces and in an attempt to remember their identity, I've been secretly giving them nicknames.

_There's elf boy, _I think, as a small, skinny boy with pointy ears that stick out a mile, runs past me.

_There's flat face boy, _I think again, when a guy with a severe lack of definition on his face walks in with his friends.

_There's the wise Goth, _I mentally tell myself, when I seek out a guy with dyed black hair and a band hoodie. He looks as if he is plotting murders, but he always scores top of the class in maths.

I grab a cinnamon and raisin bagel and head toward a vacant table at the back of the room, away from people. Still holding my book, I take out the bookmark and continue reading, absorbed by Holden's description of Phoebe. That is, until I spy a small, pale hand creep up toward my bagel.

I roll my eyes, smiling to myself and turn to face the boy in white who is suddenly sat at my feet, playing with a set of finger puppets. He retracts his hand, sheepishly, as if he is afraid that I'll hate him for repeatedly stealing my food. Deciding that I quite like this boy, I hold out half the bagel, waiting for him to lift his head and notice.  
He slowly peers up through his lashes, before spotting the bagel in front of him. Unsure of himself, the boy in white glances at me, seeking permission, before reluctantly accepting the bagel half. He enthusiastically chomps at it, showing his hunger. It only takes me a short while to finish my own half, and I stare at his face with curiosity as he finishes his.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Near" he responds quietly, playing with his finger puppets.

"That's a nice name near, I'm Rain. I rapidly notice that one of the finger puppets has long brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, black clothes and has a sad expression. _Is that a finger puppet of me?_

"That's a nice name too." He mumbles in an apathetic voice.

I sigh deeply and stand, picking up my book. I don't know what to do today, since it's a Saturday and we don't have lessons. Maybe I could read outside for a bit. I lift one leg, beginning to walk outside, however when I try to lift the other, It's weighted down by something warm and heavy. _Huh? _When I check to see the cause of the disruption in my walking, I discover that Near has attached himself to my right leg, and by the looks of it, he won't be letting go.

I laugh "You okay down there?"

He just peers up at me, his expression placid.

_Fine then, Near. _I continue to walk with difficulty, dragging near along with my right leg. He isn't that heavy, but it takes skill and effort not to fall face first into the wooden floor. After what feels like forever, I make it to the entrance doors, with Near somehow gripping on tighter.

Stopping to catch a breath, I look down at Near again, giving him a look that asked him if he has changed his mind about clinging on to me. He just stares back, and if anything, his hands ball into fists around my leg.

I can't get rid of him, so I drag Near off on a journey to a tree, that overlooks the whole area of grass. A large group of boys, far away are playing a game of football and I swear that in the group, I can see the boy in black.

I attempt, feebly to sit against the tree, which allows Near to take the hint that he can let go now and does so slowly, in case I run away again. _Ahh... _I forgot how beautiful the feeling of circulation is.

The sky is grey and cloudy but overall, the weather is mild. I lean my head back against the tree, with my legs lying on the grass in front of me, reading more of my book, becoming totally enthralled with the storyline. Near plays peacefully next to me, occasionally glancing at me, which is probably to make sure that I'm not going to try and leave.

Suddenly, over the pages of my book, I spot a football come hurtling at me. I don't wait to find out who kicked it, because my reflexes kick in immediately, and I throw my head out of the way at the last second, just as the football rebounds harshly off the tree trunk and into someone's hands.

I glare up to see the culprit, only to find that the boy in black is stood casually in front of me, holding the football in his hands. His gaze flickers between me and Near, who is completely oblivious to his presence.

"Why are you with Near?" His voice holds accusation, and disapproval. Clearly, he loathes Near, but Near appears not to feel the same.

I raise my eyebrows, "What's wrong with Near?"

"He's a big-headed twit"

I notice that Near is still playing with his finger puppets, but I can see in his eyes that he is deeply bothered by the insult that has been thrown his way. So, I reach up and stoke his white curled hair, comfortingly.

I shake my head, "No, he's not."

The boy's friends call up from the suspended game of football, "Hey Mello! Come on! What are you doing?" _Mello? _The boy in black, who is evidently now called Mello, turns around and yells to his friends about having a game without him, before he kicks the ball back to them, leaving them stood, baffled.

"Your name's Mello?"

He faces me with pride and slight disgust at Near's presence, "Yes. You got a problem with that?"

"It's the most ironic name I've ever heard" I laugh lightly, "For someone with the name of Mello, you're not very mellow."

"Well, what's your name then, huh?" I can see that Mello is amused by the conversation but he is too stubborn to let it show.

"Rain"

He cocks his head to the side, before responding, "Makes sense, for someone as miserable as you."

The comment makes me smirk, but I fix my gaze back to the words on the pages in front of me, purposely not paying any attention to Mello.

Mello clearly doesn't like being ignored like this, and I see him thudding toward me, pulling a bar of chocolate out of his pocket. He leans against the trunk next to me, resting his head against my shoulder and staring at the book himself with piercing blue eyes. The only sound he makes is the occasional hard snap of chocolate, before uttering, "I like this book".

"Me too" I whisper, which I swear puts a small smile on his face.

**A/N: The motherboard in my brain is dying from Near and Mello cuteness overload**


	9. Chapter 9

Rain's POV:

I somehow found myself spending the majority of my day alternating between making finger puppets with Near, and performing multiple magic tricks using chocolate for Mello's amusement. Unfortunately, I couldn't do both at the same time, bearing in mind that Mello and Near clearly have no tolerance for each other, and they each hated spending time with me, whilst in the presence of each other. Especially Mello; he seethed in irritation whenever I spoke to Near instead of him. In fact, It's become apparent that he seems to have an inferiority complex with Near; unless I'm paying full attention to him, his temper sparks off. Actually, he's the most competitive and stubborn eleven year-old I've ever encountered.

It's 9:00pm currently, and the sky is as black as spilt ink on white paper. I sit cross-legged on my bed, clothed in embarrassing pyjamas, hair pulled back into a ponytail, drawing a realistic image of raindrops as they appear trickling down a window. L has hacked into the laptop again, which is placed on my bedside table, angled in such a way that L can closely analyse my hands as they mould the image together. Despite talking through the various techniques that I'm using, I'm 100% aware that L is most likely not even listening or attempting at doing it himself.

L's POV:

The light of the PC monitor on the floor illuminates the otherwise cave-like room, and I sit in front of the monitor, examining the image on the screen of Rain's skilful hands building the frighteningly realistic image. _Damn! _ I've failed at yet another attempt at trying to copy Rain's picture. _She's too good..._With a sigh, I crumple up the paper into a tight ball, before throwing it on the ground to join the large pile of other messed up failed drawings.

Rain's POV:

Out of nowhere, L sighs, as if he feels the burden of the world on his shoulders. _Is he bored with me? _I look up at the monitor, whilst dropping the sketchpad onto the bed and leaving the pencil balancing on top of it.

"Is everything okay, L?" I ask the detective.

I can hear a twinge of disappointment in his voice when he replies, "I've been trying endlessly to make a creation like yours, but my only creation is a mountain of crumpled up pictures on the floor"

I rub the back of my neck, anxiously, "It's okay. You've been copying the picture off a pixelated image on a screen. You would do much better if I was there helping you."

"Fascinating..." L remarks, completely out of the blue.

"What's fascinating?"

"You. "

This makes me anxious and I have no idea how to react. I'm not very good at social situations, and this is one of the most awkward social situations I've ever been in. Already, I can feel the heat burning in my cheeks and it is a certainty that I'm blushing out of embarrassment. I really don't know how to react to his comment, so I just tell him my opinion on the matter.

"Actually, I'm really not that interesting. If anything, I'm the least interesting person I know." I tell him, being brutally honest. I stare at the floor, trying not to make eye contact because It's hard to admit my true feelings whilst looking at someone. I continue, "If you knew more about me, you probably wouldn't even bother talking to me right now"

"Should I be concerned?" L asks slowly.

I shake my head, anxiously, "No, no, no" I say, stuttering my words, "It's nothing."

L's voice is sincere when he answers, "Rain, you should know that the initial reason that I decided to stay in contact with you was because you are the most interesting person I've ever seen."

I stare up at the screen with my eyes narrowed slightly.

"There is an 89% chance that other people have distorted your opinions of yourself." He speaks quietly, deep in thought.

The room is plunged into sudden silence. In fact, the silence is so loud that I can hear it ringing in my ears. I can't respond to his percentage estimate because I know it's true. It's a rather uncomfortable situation, so I climb off the bed and trudge into the bathroom to brush my teeth, leaving the bathroom door open. I can't even face looking at myself in the mirror, so I quickly brush my teeth before turning off the light and clambering into bed. L is still here, and the white light from the monitor illuminates the room. I turn on my back to stare at the ceiling, whilst L watches my face through the camera.

"Is the light keeping you awake?" L asks.

"No" I smile, "It'll keep the monsters away. That's also why I have the teddy; to protect me from monsters"

"So you're a monster who's afraid of other monsters?...How wonderfully odd."

His summary causes a nervous laugh to escape from my lips.

"Well, since you're afraid, I guess I'll have to protect you from all the beasts lurking in the shadows." L muses, smirking a little behind the laptop, "I'm probably better protection than the teddy."

I gesture toward the teddy hooked under my elbow, "Don't insult him; He's good at karate."

"Well I'm good at capoeira, so your teddy won't stand a chance."

I smile, allowing myself to sink into my subconscious, as the power of sleep engulfs me. The last thing I see before I close my eyes is the black letter L on a monitor, watching over me like an angel.

**A/N:** **Sorry if L gets a little OOC sometimes. He's difficult to write about since he speaks really intelligently, but also like a normal person (since he likes his sarcastic comments). FYI - This is also the point where I start writing in different POV's **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I wanted to dedicate a chapter to making Rain's character unique in some way, so this was the first thing I thought of to make Rain seem funky, since I have it myself (lol- I love the word 'funky' :D) **

**Oh, and thank you so much for the lovely reviews, my dear readers xxx**

Time skip: four months later.

It has been four months now since I first arrived at Wammy's house. However, despite the length of time, I still can't stand being around people. The only people I actually enjoy the company of (other than L) is Near and Mello, who have grown close enough to me that they visit me in my room regularly. I'm not going to lie; I admit that I've grown close to them too. I think they kind of see me as a sister figure, which is strange for me because most people can't stand to be around me at all.

I'm sitting on the floor of my room, with Maths homework spread out in front of me, and L is trying to teach me how to solve algebraic equations. This may seem easy to most people, but I've had a problem with Maths for as long as I can remember. I don't understand why, but it's like the numbers just get muddled in my head and I end up staring at the numbers without actually registering what I'm supposed to be doing with them. It's quite annoying. L must have infinite patience, since he's been trying to assist me with the same equation for a full five minutes now.

"So..." I ramble on hesitantly, "the answer is 4?"

L sighs, exasperated, "Yes, Rain, the answer is 4."

I smile at my assisted victory, "Good. I like that number."

"4 is your favourite number?"

I nod, "Yes. And 7 too."

"Why 4 and 7?" L inquires, probably expecting some kind of emotional significance to those numbers.

"Because..." I murmur, whilst scribbling the answer down, "4 is blue and 7 is black, and blue and black are my favourite colours."

L goes silent. My immediate response is to think that something is wrong, or maybe he thinks I have schizophrenia. _Does he think I'm crazy?_

"Rain?"

I look up at the laptop, "Yes?"

I is hesitant in his words, as if he is trying to uncover a secret, "What colours are the other numbers?"

I put the pen down on the answer sheet and take a breath before answering, "1 is both black and white, 2 is pink, 3 is light green with a slight twinge of orange, 4 is blue, 5 is purple, 6 is forest green, 7 is black, 8 is yellow, 9 is sunset orange and 0 doesn't really have a colour because it's just nothing. Why? What colours are they to you?"

L's voice is suddenly alight with excitement and curiosity, "Rain, the numbers don't have colours to me...or to anyone else for that matter."

I frown, completely lost. _Wait? What?_ "I don't understand..."

"Rain, I believe that you seem to have a disorder called synaesthesia, which is where some of the senses in the brain can be 'cross-wired' in a sense, resulting in your ability to see numbers in colour, and I'm assuming the alphabet is colourful too"

I think hard for a minute, "music has colour"

"I'm not surprised" L comments "You probably have a few different forms"

I grimace a little, recalling one of my old friends who spent her weekends on acid and came to school on Mondays claiming that she could taste music "Isn't this what people get when they've taken a little too much LSD?"

"Yes" L's voice is suddenly amused "But I'm assuming that you're not on anything like that now?"

I raise my eyebrows at the laptop, "I've actually never done anything like that."

Suddenly I smack my hand against my forehead in remembrance "That explains why when I told people that 5 and 2 are girl numbers and the rest of them are boys, they called me insane."

I feel the surprise of my new discovery, as I remember being 10 years old, and receiving 2 out of 30 on Maths tests, and my teacher's look of sheer disappointment as he made me read out my score to the rest of the class. Images flash through my mind's eye, of all the other children looking at me oddly, distancing themselves from me because their parents had told them to be careful of the 'schizo'. This in turn led on to flickering memories of high school, and being referred to as 'psycho girl' because of...

"Rain..." L's voice draws me out of my flashbacks, "I'm sorry that they called you insane, but despite synaesthesia is a gift. Your ability is rare and many people would love to have it, myself included."

My memories must've painted a sad expression on my face, because I'm assuming that L thinks I'm upset about having such a strange ability. I want to explain to him that It's not the synaesthesia that I'm upset about, but I can't seem to bring myself to say anything. It would only raise questions that I don't want to answer. Instead, I stare at the ground, glumly as my mind's eye flicks through various memories...bullies, the isolation...my father.

I don't realise that I'm fully crying until I notice that my Maths homework now has splodges of wetness and it's making the paper crinkle. I bring my hands up to my face, thoroughly wiping away any traces of tears, before shuffling the pieces of paper into a neat pile and placing it on the floor next to me.

"You haven't finished your homework." L points out.

I shake my head, "I'll do it another day."

"Rain..." L protests, but I cut him off,

"Could I you just let me be alone for a while L, okay?" My voice is shaky and almost inaudible.

He makes no sound, but he's still here.

"It's not you; I just want to be left alone. I need to think."

The screen goes back to black, signalling that he has broken his connection to the laptop. Knowing that the coast is clear, I collapse onto my bed, allowing the ceaseless tears to flow noiselessly.


	11. Chapter 11

Time skip: 1 week.

L's POV:

It's been a week since the last time I spoke to Rain. I know that she wanted space to think, but there is an 85% chance that she purposely closed the screen of the laptop so that I cannot talk to her, because every time I hack into the laptop, all I am faced with is a black void. I have left multiple messages on her voicemail, but I doubt she has listened to them. _Should I be concerned_? If I go to Wammy's House to make sure that she is okay, it could cause complications as she and the other children would catch on immediately that I am L.

Leaning more forward in my seat, I take my spoon and scoop up a piece of cake, in hope that the sweetness of the sugar will counteract the bitterness of the worry. Technically, I'm supposed to be working on a series of murder cases but I'm still waiting for more available information from the police, so I suppose I can afford to worry. Repeatedly, I try to concentrate on the facts of the cases, but I find that my mind continues to drift toward Rain. _Is she angry with me?_

Roger's POV:

Stairs somehow seem taller and steeper at my age, but I manage to climb up the old wooden staircase with a couple of grunts of pain and a sigh. Spending my days surrounded by children is an ageing process. Sometimes you just need another adult to speak to in order to remain sane. I pass through the dormitory on my way to the main office, which is empty, thank God. However when I reach the end of the corridor, I furrow my brow with the confusion at the sight before me. I didn't think it was humanly possible to see Mello and Near together without Mello calling Near some daft name, yet here they are, huddled outside a closed door, with anxiety painted all over their faces. The sight of Mello, biting his fingernails in a preoccupied manner, is so wrong, that I cannot help but investigate.

"Is there a reason that you're crouching outside this door, gentlemen?" I ask quite harshly, stopping abruptly before them.

Mello stops biting his fingernails for a minute to peer up at me, his forehead crinkled and icy blue eyes widened with worry, "It's Rain, Roger. She hasn't been coming down for her food and she just stays in her room with the door locked."

This is completely puzzling, so I probe further, "Have you tried shouting to her?" I don't even stop to hear their answer, "R?" I call whilst simultaneously knocking on the door, "Why don't you come down and we'll get you some food?"

A muffled voice answers after a couple of seconds, "I'm not hungry, Roger."

"Really? It's not a problem for the cooks. Why don't you come on down, now?"

The voice that returns is filled with ice and rimmed with sharp bladed edges, "I said I'm not hungry!"

I don't believe her for a second, and already I am planning to ask the cooks downstairs to prepare a tray of food which I can leave outside her door. I turn to the boys, now looking to me for a solution, "Come on boys, you should leave her alone." I suggest, before shuffling away, ignoring the distinct crinkle of a chocolate bar being forced under the gap beneath a door.

I waddle with a huff and puff down to the kitchen to request that a tray of sandwiches and juice be prepared and sent to room 9F. I have already decided that if she doesn't eat the sandwiches and it ends up sitting outside her door, I will call Watari and request that he come and help figure out what's wrong with her. Maybe he can find out why she is behaving in such an unusual manner.

Time skip: 1 day

L's POV:

My concern for Rain's wellbeing is lowering my deductive abilities by 30% and I have found myself considering calling Roger to confirm that she is behaving normally. Maybe if I have confirmation that she is okay, these distracting feelings will stop chewing me from the inside. I have slept even less than usual within the last few days and it's starting to provoke feelings of restlessness that makes me feel uncomfortable. Just the uncertainty alone is unbearable, as I'm used to facts. Just as I swallow a mouthful of strawberry, the door behind me creaks open and Watari enters the room.

"Watari, is everything alright?"

"L, I have just received an urgent phone call from Roger."

I swing around in my chair quickly, facing Watari's frown. _Is this the confirmation that I've been wishing for?_ His expression immediately suggests that it is not good news which only makes me feel more uncomfortable.

"It's about R." Watari continues, "Apparently she won't come out of her room, even to eat anything, and she keeps the door locked. According to your successors, Mello and Near, she hardly ever answers when you shout to her through the door."

Something is definitely wrong. I was instinct was right all along, and she has been avoiding me. But why _me? _She knows that if there is something bothering her, she can tell me about it and I wouldn't judge her for a second. _Have I hurt you, Rain? If I have, then I'm sorry..._

"Watari?" I exclaim, thinking fast.

"Yes L?"

"Make travel preparations to go to Wammy's House as quickly as possible; I will be visiting Rain myself."

Watari nods, "Of course, L. I was going to suggest that we go, anyway."

I nod, feeling better that the uncertainty is gone, but still worse that something is wrong with her. Other than Watari, I don't usually feel this concerned about other people. It is an alien feeling that shakes me inside, but I will have to put the feeling aside when I see her. It will be the first time that she has seen me in person, and I feel like it is snowing inside my stomach, making me shiver from the inside. _Is this nervousness? Am I nervous to see her?_ _Worry? Am I feeling guilty for not deciding to visit her earlier? _Whatever this feeling is, I don't like it at all.

**A/N: sorry for all the time skips and such. I just didn't want to drag it out.**

**justaislin - for me it depends on the words. Generally each individual letter of a word has its own colour, but sometimes a word will have one colour if there are quite a few letters in the word with the same colour ( if that makes sense), and other times, if the first letter is really strongly pronounced, it will taint the word with that colour like a background whilst the other letters make up the small details. kind of difficult to explain. **

** I discovered that it wasn't normal when I told my mother that her favourite song sounds mustard yellow, and she thought I was either schizophrenic or was on magic mushrooms haha the conversation from then on was a bit awkward. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Errrm, this chapter is pretty dark, just so you're warned beforehand.**

L's POV:

When I step into Wammy's House again, it is just as it was when I was 8 years old. I would take time to appreciate the memories created in this building, but a stroll down memory lane is not my main concern. Roger is striding on in front with Watari, whilst I shuffle behind, feeling sickly with worry. I almost don't want to see her in her room, in fear of what I might find. All kinds of images are flashing in my brain, such as horrifying scenarios that you only see in psychological thriller movies. The thoughts make me shudder, and I shove them forcefully out of my mind.

Roger stops suddenly in front of a dark wooden door with the gold letters on the front saying '9F'. I notice as we approach that two young boys, who I'm assuming to be Near and Mello, (I haven't actually spoken to them before, but I've seen their names at the top of the list of average grades) are crouched outside the door, as if hoping for it to open spontaneously.

Watari knocks loudly on the door shouting "R?" There is no answer, only silence from the other side. Watari holds his hand up to knock again, but I raise my hand to stop him, before jiggling around in my pockets to find the one thing I knew I would need. I pull out a paperclip which I continue to bend so that it forms a wire. A wire that is perfect for picking locks. The lock takes about ten seconds before it clicks, signalling that it is open, and I push open the door with a creak.

What I see sends an unusual ripple of fear through me, and the thoughts I held earlier are nothing compared to the scene in front of me. The room is a mess. The wallpaper nearest to the bed has been shredded and peeled from the walls. Books and various other objects lie on the ground, smashed to pieces indicating that she's thrown them at the wall. The single curtain is drawn, cloaking the room with shadows, like Rain has been trying to hide from the world, or simply block out all sources of light. Amongst several scattered chocolate bar wrappers on the floor, lies shards of glinting glass, the source being a shattered glass vase. And yet, the one factor that terrifies me the most is that Rain is nowhere to be seen.

I can hear Watari, Roger and the two boys breathing fearful gasps, as they never expected to find the scene of a breakdown. It is at that point that I notice that the bathroom door is firmly shut. Realising in an instant what is happening,I throw my leg up, in a swift capoeira move, slam my foot against the lock of the door, breaking it open, and leaving splinters of wood showering the air.

Rain's POV:

The water presses heavily against my closed eyelids, which feels good against my skin, but feels cold against my clothes. Memories surge, overwhelming me, smothering me, pressurising me to do what I need to do. A collection of images from my youth flicker through my brain, reminding me of the names they called me, the rejection, the humiliation, the way they laughed in my face when they knew I had been crying. _"__Freak of society"..."Ugly"..."Stupid"..."Fat"..._The list of names are on loop in my head, even when I can feel my mind drifting under the influence of the sedatives. My body feels weightless, signalling that sleep is finally here...almost here...

_Crash!_

The door is thrown open, except that I don't know who it is because I can't bring myself to open my eyes; they are too heavy now. I don't care who it is, just as long as sleep comes before they do. The only thing I want now is to never have to open my eyes again. At that moment, the wonderful and soft heaven of sleep takes me.

L's POV:

The situation is worse than I anticipated. Far worse.

Watari, Roger and the two boys have followed me into the bathroom, and already I can hear Watari and Roger straining to hold the boys back, keeping their eyes away from the scene before me.

My worst nightmare has manifested into reality, as Rain is lying fully clothed, in a bath full of water. Her eyes are pulled shut under the surface, and I know for definite that she didn't trip and fall headfirst into a bath that she was running, as an orange bottle of pills is lies on the counter, with a mere few white pellets inside. She would look so peaceful lying there, except for the multiple slashes of red incisions that run up both of her arms, from her wrists to above her elbows. I had no idea that she was capable of inflicting those ugly, twisted lines of deep red, and the blood from the cuts is seeping into the nearby bath water, tingeing it pale pink.

I barely even stop to stare, as the adrenaline that usually appear, is now causing my limbs to throb and shake. I lean down, quickly grabbing her by her shoulders, and drag her out of the crystal water, setting her down on my lap, as I sit holding her tightly, on the tiled floor. Laying a finger on her pulse point, I can confirm that she is still alive, sending a wave of relief, like a shiver, through my body.

Then suddenly, she jerks upwards spluttering, coughing water from her mouth, and I freeze, uncertain how to react. She gulps huge breaths in, as if she is alive for the first time. Her eyes are half open, but I know that she can see, because when she has emptied her lungs from the unwanted water, her gaze meets mine and her chocolate brown eyes bore into mine drowsily. I brief wave of confusion crosses them, before her lids lightly shut. I don't doubt that she is still alive because her chest is rising and falling softly, which can only mean that the sedatives that she took have finally taken full effect, and she is now sound asleep.

My body feels overwhelmed with joy as I cradle her in my arms, knowing that if I had lingered for a second longer, she may not still be here. I hadn't been able to see it on the laptop camera, but she has a rather unusual shade of brown eyes that I have never seen before...like they're tinged with maroon at certain angles. The broken sight of her is painful to see, and yet, I'll have to ask her for her reasons behind the impulsive, self-destructive event, even if it may be difficult to admit. Her behaviour cannot be classed as normal - that much I know - so what led her to want to end her own life?

In spite of my happiness of knowing that she is alive and well, my only regret is that I couldn't meet her in much happier circumstances, and I can only apologise to her, that our first meeting is nothing more than a rescue mission.

**A/N: I'm sorry if L is too OOC here; I am trying my best to deal with his intelligence. Okay, now this chapter never fails to confuse everyone, because I always get people scratching their heads saying "Why is she all suicidal over colours?" - I'll just clear this up, while I can. That and this are two different things. I added the colours in to make her character more interesting, but I also used it as a technique to remind her of childhood, which then triggers memories that she would much prefer to forget. **

**I think we can establish by now that Rain has her fair share of secrets that she's been keeping from L, and everything will eventually connect.**

**I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit dark and depressing, but t****hank you for reading this far xx **

**justaislinn: haha, no reading isn't distracting because you're only well...reading. But ask me about maths and it's a completely different story, since my brain tries to add colours together, which obviously you can't do, so I end up staring at the maths question for ages before resorting to my good ol' fingers. **


	13. Chapter 13

Rain's POV:

The last thing I can remember before it all went black, is the face of a teenage boy. The image of his pale flawless skin contrasts with the memory of his dark, dark hair. I remember his eyes to be large and black, yet piercing, and his iris merely a ring of steel grey. When I saw him, I had never seen his face before and I can only believe that he is an angel or a dead ancestor come to guide me through death. The image burns through my mind, and I can only focus on the scared and heartbroken expression that is etched on his face. I admit, it wasn't the most beautiful of deaths, but I honestly didn't expect that death would be this comfortable. I swear I can smell fresh linen. _Does death smell like washing detergent?_

Gradually I feel a weight being lifted from my chest and naturally, my eyes flutter open. The first thing I focus on, is a plain whitewashed ceiling directly above me, before I suddenly become aware of the gentle press of a thin duvet draped over me. _I'm in a bed?_

"You're awake."

The sudden voice scares me beyond belief, but when I turn to see the owner of the voice, I admit, I'm terrified to find that the boy who I had deemed an angel, is sitting on a plastic blue chair next to me...or _crouching_ next to me, should I say?

I'm trying to find words to summarise my confusion, but my throat is lit with an inextinguishable fire, and so I can't seem to be able to verbalise them.  
Other than before I blacked out, the boy's face is unfamiliar but his voice I recognised immediately. The monotone smoothness, with a touch of mystery and boredom.

_L?_

He looks at me solemnly, "If you haven't already put two and two together, I am L."

This is _L_? I glance down at his clothes, finding that he is wearing an exceptionally baggy white t-shirt and blue jeans that appear to be too large for his slim frame. _Is he wearing no shoes or socks? _I think as I stare-for too long- at his bare toes.

L coughs loudly...falsely, to draw my attention back up to his face. I guess I had been staring, captivated, by his bare feet for way too long. "I understand that speaking may hurt, given the circumstances, but I insist that you pay attention to what I'm about to say."

I re-direct my line of vision back to his face, finding that his expression is crossed with annoyance, bordering on barely restrained anger. "Rain, when I found you, you were in the process of drowning yourself in a bath, which was an extremely selfish and stupid move to pull."

Although I'm listening, like he asked, I suddenly become aware that I must look rather stupid, staring at his striking facial features as if I'd never seen a person before.

"I need you to understand that you can't do things like that, and ignore how it will affect the people around you. The boys who were camping outside your door were quite shaken, having seen you in that state. It took me a while to convince them that you didn't mean to pull that stunt."

I bite the corner of my lip, shamefully, thinking back to the crinkle of chocolate bars that Mello had been repeatedly pushing under the door. I had somehow forgotten about Near and Mello. How could I forget them in that one split selfish second?

"They weren't the only ones who needed convincing either..." L murmurs, looking away from me, frowning distantly.

My lips part, as I intend to tell him that I'm sorry. I made a mistake, and I'll find a way, somehow, to make sure that Near and Mello are fully convinced that I never intended to leave them. _But you did_, I hear a voice ring at the back of my mind, _You wanted to die, remember?_ I feel my eyes water, with the shame and embarrassment that they had to see that side of me. I want to take it back, take it all back, rewind the clock, rewind _me_. But, I realise grimly, there are no words that I can say to convey those feelings.

L turns back to me, breaking up my thoughts, "You're probably confused and exhausted" he says, glancing over my expression, "You're in a hospital, although I'm assuming you've already realised that. Watari and I brought you here as fast as we could after we found you. I explained the situation, and that you had swallowed a large amount of sedatives. They took you into the emergency room after that, and I can't be sure exactly what they did since I couldn't go with you, but I heard them talking about a Gastric Lavage"

I peer down at myself, clothed in a hospital gown, with the needle of an IV drip protruding from my wrist.

"They also bandaged up your arms" he adds, nodding toward the sleeves of white bandages that ran from my wrists up to my forearms, and another wave of embarrassment hits me, so much so, that I can't even bear to look at the bandages any more. If I see them, It becomes more real.

L stands, taking a few seconds to slip on a pair of battered sneakers at the foot of his chair, "They're letting you go in a few days, since we got you here fast enough that it was relatively easy to fix you. For now, visiting hours are almost over, and you most likely want to be left alone to think."

He trudges toward the door to the small ward, calling "I'll be back to visit you tomorrow", before the door softly shuts behind him.

He had seemed so distant, and if anything, _cold_ to me. I don't think he wanted to act that way, since It looked as if he were holding back what he was really thinking, but it was apparent that he was disappointed in me. I can't say I blame him. What I did was completely uncalled for, unexpected, and he could never have seen it coming. I shrivel down under the duvet, pulling the cover over my head, in an attempt to forget everything.

**A/N: **** Just to mention, a Gastric Lavage is a procedure that they sometimes give to overdose patients, which involves cleaning out the stomach to rid it of poisons. The IV drip also helps to restore the body's natural balance of salts and minerals etc... to help drain out poisons. **

**It was mentioned in one of the comments that she probably lost a lot of blood, but just to clarify, she didn't cut that deep. It was merely an act of self harm that will be explained later. I know it's a bit dark and depressing, but It's kind of part of her character. Knowing what her problem is, it would be a bit unrepresentative/unrealistic to not include it. **

**Thank you for reading this far xx**


	14. Chapter 14

Watari beams at me, as he holds open the front door for me to slowly trudge through. I attempt to return his smile, but my mood seems to have flown further south after having sat in awkward silence in the back of a car with L 's large eyes flickering repeatedly in my direction for the entire 40 minute journey. I've been chaperoned to one of L's many base houses around an hour away from the orphanage. Why am I not going back to the orphanage, you ask? Because apparently, L decided that it would be best if I stayed with him and Watari, so he could keep an eye on my behaviour.

As I step into the small house I follow a dark hallway, leading to living room with a built in kitchen. There are two (rather comfy looking) deep forest green couches and a television next to a large window with tightly drawn deep red curtains. Overall, the scene is cosy, or would've been if it weren't for the pressuring feeling of L's eyes on the back of my head.

Suddenly, as if the circumstances weren't uncomfortable enough, my stomach releases a loud growl, causing me to scratch my head awkwardly and mumble,"Sorry, the hospital food tasted like wet cardboard, so I could barely manage to eat any of it."

L's eyes shift away from mine, as he shuffles toward the kitchen. Glancing over my shoulder once, I realise that Watari has mysteriously disappeared into oblivion. It's not an unusual occurrence. Sometimes he'd appear standing in the corner of a room at Wammy's, and then when you turned to look at him again, he'd have vanished. One would think that he had the habit of being repeatedly sucked up into a black hole.

A light tap on my shoulder yanks me back to the present, and I spin back around to see L's hand reached out to me, holding a cupcake with sugary pink frosting. I carefully take the cupcake from L's outstretched hand and give him a small, slightly surprised, smile. At first he doesn't return it, and I assume with disappointment that he is still annoyed at my selfish reckless actions. But just when my smile starts to disintegrate, the corners of his lips turn up childishly, sending relief through my bones.

"Am I forgiven for being stupid?" I ask him quietly, under my breath.

His eyes survey me for a couple of seconds, before he replies simply "Of course. I was actually more mad at myself"

A frown crosses my features, "Yourself? Why? I was the one who didn't think. It's my fault."

L shakes his head slightly "I couldn't contact you for a week, but I didn't do anything about it. I assumed that it was nothing, and you just wanted some peace, so I didn't contact Roger. But because of my assumption, Roger was the one to contact me first. I could've gotten there earlier, but because I left the matter alone, you nearly died. "

I scowl at his silly misconceptions "Yeah, but I was the one who didn't think. It happened because I chose to act irrationally on my own accord. If I didn't do it, you would've gotten there eventually, only to find me sat on my bed, all moody, behind a locked door"

With a troubled sigh, he answers "Let's just call it even"

Annoyed at his self-blaming, I chomp down the cupcake, letting no crumb go to waste, and I have to say, Watari is excellent at baking. L, on the other hand, has somehow gotten hold of his own cupcake, and takes bites out of it slowly, his eyes staring at me as I devour the cupcake. It probably looks extremely unfeminine, but I'm much too hungry to control my own behaviour. The wilder, more feminist, side of my brain screams _Who cares about femininity?! Yeah!_

L's thin fingers gently tug the empty cupcake case from my hands, before tossing it in a bin with his own. I don't even realise that I'm yawning, until L speaks up, interrupting the quiet.

"You're probably still tired, since I can't imagine that sleeping in a busy hospital, surrounded by other people, would be easy"

I nod, before following him down a hallway into a relatively small bedroom, with a oak dresser and a double bed, facing a window opposite. Immediately the child within me springs to life, and I proceed to jumping on the edge of the bed to test its bounciness, whilst L gives me a look laced with surprise and amusement, probably having never imagined me to be so childish in reality.

I relax, curling up on my side with my head on the soft pillow. Fifteen minutes ago, I never would've realised that I was so sleepy after spending time in a hospital bed, but I know from my knowledge of Ultradian biological rhythms and the stages of sleep, that my being surrounded by the onlooking eyes of others and the conversations of their visitors, would've affected my quality of sleep. I don't recall dreaming since before the "incident", so I most likely haven't experienced any REM sleep since then. If I have, not enough of it to stay sane.

L turns, beginning to leave, but something unexpected snaps inside me, and I reach out to grasp his white sleeve. Even from my angle, I can see a frown of confusion cross his features, before he tilts his head to face me, staring at me expectantly.

"Thank you L" I mumble, before releasing his sleeve, and observing his expression turn from perplexity to understanding. The corners of his mouth turn up again in a small smile, and he quietly steps out of the room to leave me at peace.

Only seconds after his departure, does my head hit the pillow and my eyes gently close as I slip into slumber.

L's POV:

With a strange feeling in my stomach, and relief coursing through my veins, I return to the living room. Somehow, my work suddenly seems insignificant given the circumstances, and I stretch two fingers to push my laptop away, before I perch on the couch, legs drawn underneath my body.

I don't know how long I sit in deep thought, but it feels like an eternity, before I use one hand, to take the piece of paper from my pocket, unfolding it, now reading it yet again for the hundredth time. As I re-absorb the meaning of the words on the page, my fingertips lightly trace the circular rumpled patches of the paper. Stains of dried tears.

_I understand now, Rain. I know why you did it, but I just need to hear it from you._

**A/N:  I felt like I went on a bit too much about her sleep pattern and the stages of sleep, but I feel like I'm not making her seem intelligent enough, so I added it in since she's supposedly a Wammy's kid after all. **


	15. Chapter 15

L's POV:

It is approximately two hours, until the dim creak of a door opening signals Rain's awakening. On one hand, I understand entirely that It wouldn't be advantageous, in terms of her ever-changing mood, to press her about the contents of her note. But on the other hand, I believe that her admitting the facts not only to me, but to herself, would provide a release from any lingering psychological distress.

The padding of footsteps down the hallway grow gradually louder, until I sense her presence hesitating, as she hides behind the door frame. I spare a glance over toward her direction, finding nothing, except a tiny tuft of her hair, giving away her position.

I feel the corners of my mouth turn up a little, "You can stay there if you want, although I'd much prefer to talk to you face to face"

The tuft of chestnut hair jump slightly, before her hesitant form slowly emerges around the door frame as she slides into the room, with her eyes fixed entirely on me.

Dropping the papers I was reading onto the coffee table, I gesture to the couch opposite from mine, and she quietly - somewhat nervously - takes a seat, sitting rather unrelaxed on the edge of the fabric. She probably knows what I'm about to ask, and so I don't question her rigidity, but accept it as a natural response. Her eyes are still unwaveringly transfixed on me, as I slip my pale fingers into my jeans pocket to retrieve the folded paper. She flinches a little at the sight, but otherwise retains her blank face.

I unfold the paper, placing it carefully on the table at an angle in which she can clearly see it's contents.

"Everything that you've written here," I begin, searching her expression for something. Anything. "Can you elaborate on it?"

Her eyes flicker over the letter, scanning her extremely minute, but messy writing scrawled on both sides of the sheet, until she reaches the sentences that pile up at the end, in a heap, where she lacked the space to continue writing.

She eventually diverts her gaze in the opposite direction, as if she simply can't bear the sight of it.

"Or explain it?" I prompt, at her silence.

She shrugs, before muttering "It's self-explanatory enough, is it not?"

I cast my eyes down, to skim-read over it again myself,

_"Dear L,_

_I haven't spoken to you much recently. I apologise for that, but all of a sudden, I can't stop thinking. Maybe you're reading this and thinking 'Why?', or maybe you don't actually care. They didn't care. I don't really talk about myself much, leaving people wondering why I'm so miserable, but I may as well speak now, so that you, of all people can maybe understand. I've been thinking a lot about my father, and the way he was. Always yelling, threatening, scaring, to the point that we - my brother and I - cried. He was our biggest fear, and he was the only thing that ever made my brother cry. He liked control, like a tyrant. Not for any particular purpose, more because he just liked the feeling of power. And because of that, we were kept on a tight leash. An extremely tight leash. I couldn't leave the house by myself, except for school, and even then he would stand at the edge of the playground, watching me. _

_As soon as my sister was born, both my mother, father and brother immediately preferred her. She was blonde, fair skinned with bright blue eyes and freckles. i.e. the opposite of me. That was when they immediately began to ignore me or disregard me. They practically shunted me out of the family, as the unwanted child. So, I spent most of my time, playing alone, in my room. _

_I wasn't allowed to play out, like other children, and even my general knowledge of society was poor, and so I had severe difficulty fitting in at school. My entire life - quite literally - consisted of going to school, and going home. Other than that, there were family outings, but I could never see anyone outside of school. It didn't matter back then though, since no one really noticed me much, L. I was invisible to them. A ghost. Don't mistake me, I made friends eventually, but they alternated between kindness and bullying, so I could never form an honest and sincere emotional attachment to them. Because of this, I never fit it. I never have. I always seemed to be on a different wavelength to others my age, like when I told you that people thought I was insane. _

_Because of my inability to understand social context, by the time I reached high school, I had to nod along with every word people said to me, even if they spoke about topics I had never even heard of. I still didn't understand what the words "going out" meant, in a romantic sense, and I had to pretend to know what a Pop Tart was. At school, my best friend left me alone, and I alternated between different friendships, except they all ended the same. I couldn't maintain friendships. I didn't understand people at all. I loathed myself, and had to keep my home-life a secret. I wanted to be close to my friends, but at the same time, I didn't want to hurt them, as I knew that I could never bring them home, or meet up out of school like all the others. So I lost them, one by one. _

_Over time, I grew so hopeless. So lonely, L. I can't express in words how painful it was, to never have anyone who could accept me and my circumstances. Everyone ignored me, looked through me, or thought I was pathetic. Meanwhile, at home, my father continued to wreak havok, and I can't begin to tell you how much I hate him. I **HATE** him, L! More than anything! My hatred for him, for myself, for everyone, combined with my absolute solitude drove me into doing some rather self-humiliating psychotic acts. I won't tell you what I did; If I tell you, It becomes more real, and I can't bear it. But then people noticed me. But not for the desired reasons. I managed to acquire the name "Psychogirl", bringing me back to where I originally used to be. I looked back the next day, and the day after that up until now, and I think to myself "Why did I do that?". Even now, I can see how obvious it is that what I did was insane and psychotic. I feel like it was a dream, though, like it was never me. I was possessed. Again, I was bullied and bullied, amplifying my stupid self-hatred. Back then - it hurts to think - I was practically on a road to self-destruction. I wanted to die so bad. More, in fact, than I do now. Actually, no. I wanted to burn the living shit out of myself. _

_But then I met him. Dylan. I was placed next to him in my Spanish classes, and recognised him as one of the 'popular' people. Even to this day, I don't know if he really had heard of what I did. I couldn't tell, because he was so kind. Again, I won't say much, but he was so genuinely kind, to the point that I was taken aback entirely by the extent to his consideration for me. He took an interest in me, trying to find out my likes and dislikes. Who I was, my strengths, weaknesses. Chances are, he heard of what I did, and yet despite that, he insisted on calling me his friend. He saw my distress at the events, and did what he could to make me smile when nobody else even tried. I looked toward those Spanish classes with more excitement that I had ever felt before._

_ Dylan was the first person in my life, who I can say that I loved - and still do - with sincerity and honesty. And I knew that he loved me. It sounds unrealistic, but something tied us, that was beyond petty romances, or surface friendship. I would still die for him. _

_I lost him L. _

_I never got to tell him the extent to my gratitude. I would probably have died back then, but he gave me a reason to live. He shone a light in my eyes, and for that, I'm still so grateful. But I could never tell him. I didn't get the chance. Life never stays static, it moves and shifts constantly like the Earth's crust. Eventually, our classes changed, and the lessons that bound us together had separated us. I would have spoken to him more along the corridors, but high-school doesn't work like that. He was a 'somebody' who loved a ghost. His friends were the ones who I had heard whispering "Psychogirl" behind my back. He was never around when they did, so I'll never know what would've happened if he had found them looking down on me like that. It was impossible for me to mix with those people. He did, a few times, speak to me when he was alone, but even that eventually reduced to merely his eyes meeting mine in a grim, pitiful look of remembrance over what used to be, and what could've been. _

_I haven't seen him since those sad, sad glances. _

_I was alone and terrified at home. I was alone at school. My father proceeded to take control of absolutely everything, and decided what qualifications I were to have. What degree at university and what job I would have in the future. He told me, like he had been telling me since childhood, that I was never to leave home until I was married with children. __Somehow, I managed for months, not really thinking. It was all there, I knew it was there, but I never really thought about it. And like right now, there came a point where something snapped, and all of a sudden, I couldn't stop thinking. _

_Eventually, everything piled up, and piled up, and I exploded. I broke to pieces in a Physical Education lesson, in a crying fumbling mess, after being hit - again - in the head by a basketball. After having spent a game of basketball being yelled at by team and criticised by the teacher for my unavoidable lack of athletic ability, it was the last straw. So I went insane, wanting to attack myself with tears and hair-pulling. They sent me to the pastoral office to figure out what was wrong, and so I spilled. Everything. My dad, the isolation, the psychological torture of it all, the fear, the loneliness. The abuse. _

_They didn't believe me. _

_Or they just didn't care. _

_Either way, they showered me with fake smiles and, false hopes for the future, before failing to fulfil any of their promises to help me a little. They never welcomed me back._

_Maybe, with this, you can understand a little, L, the reasons for this. There's still things that I can't tell you. Much more personal things, like what I did to become "Psychogirl". Maybe you won't be mad, even though I'm leaving you. But you must, please, understand the extent to how difficult this burden is to carry. It's breaking my back, and I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to carry it on. _

_Maybe, if the circumstances were different...If I knew you better, I could've been happy to exist with you. But it's inevitable; I'l lose you too. I'll hurt you, and you'll hate me more than you probably do already for this. _

_I'm so sorry. _

_R_

My eyes return to hers, analysing her expression with careful detail. She's strong. The strongest person I've ever had the pleasure to witness. But she has breaking points. She's human, not a hero. Just a lost little girl who had no idea how to function in society. It's unbelievable she's managed to make it this far. Even though the letter does explain, in detail, the history that led her to her present, I have noticed that certain behaviours listed are rather unusual.

My questions haven't yet been answered.

**A/N:  Well that was rather emotional for me to write. I know Rain's letter is rather long, but let's just agree that her writing is REALLY small. I also really wanted to provide a full understanding...and not to mention, when I designed her, I wanted her character to be a real human with a pretty complicated back-story. **

**Something kind of bothered me a bit with only a couple of of the earlier comments. Not harsh comments or anything, but it's been mentioned that Rain and the Wammy's children are too normal to be considered genius. I just wanted to clear up a misconception about the common stereotypes of 'genius'. **

**Geniuses are not always obvious. Yes, there are geniuses like Einstein who obviously loved maths and such, but you'd be surprised to find that most geniuses, when young, are actually really normal people. That's why sometimes you get that one class clown who never turns up for lessons, never does homework, listens to music instead of listening, and yet somehow ends up with 98% in the final exams. There's a boy like that in my psychology class at the moment.**

**In Chapter 10 of this story, I had Rain mention about a friend who came into school on Mondays having spent the weekend on LSD. Believe it or not, I added that it because I actually did have a friend who did exactly that (no, I didn't pick up any of her habits, but I loved her anyway cause she was a wonderful person). She took recreational drugs, only turned up to school when she felt like it, just listened to rock music in lessons, and ended up getting straight A's. When I asked her what the secret was to her intelligence, she told me that her parents had paid for her to have an IQ test, and she had an IQ of 142. **

**Loads of people always design Wammy's House children as little mini-L's who sit at a computer and solve equations all day, but that's not the case at all. People forget that Wammy's House Children are still children. They still play and have fun like normal children. In the manga, there's even a shot of Mello playing football the other children. **

**Okay. Rant over. *closes eyes and takes a deep breath* **

**Thank you for reading this xxx **

**(don't hate me too much after that rant) :(**


	16. Chapter 16

The room falls into silence for a minute or so, as both of us mentally come to terms with the information revealed within the note.

"Rain, why did you do it?" I ask, my voice a mere quiet murmur.

Her brows shoot up in surprise, before it flashes briefly with a look of sheer irritation, "Like I said, It's all written there."

"No" I shake my head, a small bell of irritation that she's forcing me to shed light on the true meaning behind my question, even if I'm 100% certain that she already knows what I'm asking.

"I know generally what drove you to those measures." I continue, "But some of the behaviour you've indirectly mentioned - and I'll apologise in advance for saying this - is rather odd."

Rain's eyes focus somewhere past my shoulder, and she would seem to be daydreaming, but I know from the slight twitch of her eyes at the mention of the word 'unusual', that she's listening intently to my voice...and is definitely not liking what I'm implying.

"You mention repeatedly the word 'thinking', as in you go for months without 'thinking', but suddenly, you can't stop. This self-humiliating incident that you apparently did, you've described as 'insane' and 'psychotic', and you claim that you feel as though you were a different person, or in a dream."

I hesitate for a few seconds, frowning deeply as my fingers touch the paper at certain words "Furthermore, you're intense desire to - as you've phrased it - 'burn the living shit out of yourself', is quite...extreme."

She leans back as my words trail off, seeming at first glance as though she's relaxing on the couch. However, my eyes flit over her appearance, focusing on the crescent-moon indents on the palms of her hands, as her fingers contract into a fist, before loosening, only to contract again in a constant cycle. She's nervous. Although I feel somewhat proud of her for retaining her strong demeanour - given the conversational subject - I'm more than aware of how difficult this must be, and despite this, a curious little psychologist's voice in my brain wonders what buttons I could push to make that cool exterior crack.

Not that I would actually attempt to push any buttons. Rain is too much of an important person, and inflicting such pressure like that would be ethically wrong.

"Borderline Personality Disorder." She speaks finally, her voice breaking the silence like an ice pick.

I stare at her, unsurprised by the sudden discovery. It makes logical sense, and I would be lying if I said that it had't briefly crossed my mind...and then kept crossing it, again and again.

She continues, her voice in a dull monotone, as if she was reading words that she has memorised from a textbook. "Borderline Personality Disorder. Symptoms include constant feelings of loneliness or emptiness, difficulty making and maintaining relationships, the strong desire for self harm, hatred of oneself, intense fear of being alone, rapid mood swings, and short but severe periods of depression or anxiety."

Judging by her clear discontent and discomfort in talking about the delicate subject of her mental health, I decide to switch the conversation into a much deeper one.

"Rain," My words seem caught in my throat, as if something is blocking them on purpose "You won't like what I'm about to ask you."

Her chocolate eyes flit across to stare into mine, and unexpectedly, I'm met with the sheer lack of emotion in their depths. All I can assume is that she's blocking everything out; repressing all forms of emotion linked to her past. In other words - _her_ words - she's 'not thinking'. But she will think, eventually. And I don't know if she has an idea of when that could be, but when the inevitable happens, I will definitely be there to drag her away from her past.

"What kind of abuse?"

Her dark eyes harden, as rough as a chainsaw and filled with a venomous hatred that, if I were a more responsive person, would send a shudder cascading down my spine. Except that it isn't directed toward me. You don't even have to be the world's greatest detective to see it. She hates her father with a poisonous wrath that I have never seen in any human I've encountered before. And yet, as pitless and terrifying as it is, it's equally fascinating. It makes me wonder, _what _did he do to her to earn him such vehemence? Abused children can still love their parents for simply giving them life. But here she is, filled with nothing but anger and pain, making me want to dissolve it with my bare hands purely to ease her burden.

"I would've thought that it would be obvious" she utters.

"No." I shake my head again, and once more proceed to rephrase one of my vague questions. "Emotional-psychological abuse is obvious, but I want you to clarify for me now, with your head clearer than when you wrote it down, what exactly he did."

Rain's intense eyes flash with indignation, as she hisses "You know, Lies, manipulation through fear, limited social contact, stamping on the dreams of young children, making them feel worthless and dumb, his demand for superiority and control over everyone else, etcetera...etcetera..." she trails off.

The true and thorough torment concealed beneath her fiery expression determines that I should end the conversation. I have my answers now. Everything has slotted into place, and even though there are gaps which she has decided to keep my prying eyes from, I'm sure she'd tell me if she wanted to. Even if she didn't, I would still be contented with that. Probing further and unlocking secret chambers in her mind, would be maladaptive at this point. She would dwell on the memories, and may even make her 'think', which would only lead to more self-destructive behaviour.

Yes, I should leave it alone, and maybe reveal to her my surprise, which I had readily prepared earlier, whilst she slept.

with a rustle of clothes against the couch, I stand, gesturing to her with my hand.

"come."

**A/N: This kind of felt like a filler chapter, because it's shorter than others, but it was useful to clear up the air a little, and have L's questions answered. Part of me felt like L was a creepy experimenter in this little chapter because he referred to her like he wanted to test her and discover how her mind works and such...but ultimately, he's just got a curious genius mind. **

**Thank you for reading xx**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:**** I'm sorry for not updating sooner. It kind of took me quite a while to finish this chapter, given that It's exam time for me now, and I'm doing resits too. But education aside, life isn't exactly treating me too well. But rest assured, I have no intention of becoming someone who begins a story and never bothers finishing it, and then before you know it, 10 years have passed. **

**I haven't updated the last few chapters as quickly as I used to update the first few, because I initially didn't expect people to actually bother reading this, so I kind of took a 'meh' approach, and just posted the chapters that I wrote when I was younger. But (and I don't know if it's noticeable), I've been adding more to chapters. **

**I admit that i'm still taking a slight 'meh' approach, since I barely have time to write anyway, so I'm unable to transform everything into a beautiful piece of literature, even If I actually really want to. **

**Anyway, thank you for having patience with me. Remember, patience is virtue...and you've definitely been rewarded with this extra long chapter, heh heh heh. **

I note mentally, that L's spine is slightly hunched as he leads me through the room until the floor suddenly cuts off from carpet and transforms into bright white tile. His hands plant themselves almost hesitantly on my shoulders as he gently propels me to the other side of the counter, as if he won't take the risk of me sneaking a glimpse at whatever on earth he is currently hiding under there. With a quick glance at my unemotional yet borderline confused expression, his pale hands dart beneath the counter, only for his dark brows to furrow in concentration as he seemingly hauls up his mystery surprise.

I can't imagine for the life of me what surprises he could possibly be stashing beneath a counter. But all of a sudden, emerges the white tips of candles, followed by the deep brown swirl of chocolate butter-cream icing. My lips part unconsciously, as I struggle to take in the sight of the divine monstrosity of a chocolate cake that stands proudly on the surface before me.

"H...How did you know?" I stutter, staring into his fathomless eyes.

L shrugs lackadaisically, "Watari may have mentioned it to me, so I attempted at baking you a cake."

"You made this yourself?" I ask, a grin spreading across my face.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, as his eyes drop away from mine, focusing on the cake, "I even did the writing on the top."

I glance at the cake again, with clearer eyes, noticing the extremely messy scrawl of white icing reading a childish and almost indistinguishable '_Happy Birthday Rain'. _It doesn't matter that it's utterly unreadable. It doesn't matter that It doesn't look like a spotless perfect cake that one would see in the window of a patisserie. It looks completely imperfect, but it's the imperfections that make it look so delicious. Even if it tastes like soggy cardboard, all that matters is that L made this cake whilst thinking of me. An electric jolt of happiness tugs at my heart, as I realise that L really does appreciate my existence.

I suddenly find myself somehow losing my composure, as I jump toward him, throwing my arms tightly around his neck. Briefly, I feel his muscles stiffen at my embrace, but soon relax into the hug, as his arms hesitantly wrap around me. I would thank him, but I don't trust myself to say the words without choking and stuttering like an imbecile. I've never been too good at saying thank you.

Taking my chances, I murmur quietly "I didn't even expect you to know."

His breath hits the skin of my ear as he speaks softly, his voice barely audible "Your welcome. But I'll warn you, there's a 76% chance that it tastes even worse than it looks."

A short but almost musical laugh escapes my lips at his comment, "It really is perfect, L. I love it."

Quickly I realise how close and clingy I must seem, and begin to pull away from him, reducing our grateful embrace to me staring at the ground awkwardly, and L seeming almost reluctant to let go. Unspoken thoughts about the intimacy linger like static in the air, until L's monotone voice breaks the chilly silence.

L gestures to my clothes, "You may want to take a shower and get dressed, Rain. It's your birthday, so I intend to take you out somewhere," he mumbles, before adding quietly, his voice in a teasing tone "if you behave."

I raise my eyebrows, holding back a smirk that threatened to find its way to my face, before I saunter off toward the bathroom, muttering "I'm always on my best behaviour."

L's POV:

It's been half an hour since she left the living room, and although I know that she's just simply and innocently taking a shower, I can't just ignore the tiny piece of my brain that warns me to be wary of the amount of time she spends in a bathroom. She needs someone who she can trust wholeheartedly, and obviously I want that person to be me, but at the same time, I can't entirely trust her to not do anything reckless.

Ultimately I find myself pushing that corner of my mind further away, by distracting myself with solving an extremely simplistic Sudoku puzzle in a local newspaper that I discovered lying around somewhere under the coffee table. When she finally emerges, busying herself with a silver necklace, wearing an elegantly laced navy blue dress, her usual boots and a black cardigan to cover her arms, I feel my eyes widen slightly, only to force myself to regain my usual blank expression. Although I'm certain that my gaze is emotionless and unrevealing, and despite her clothes being pretty, but bordering more casual that dressy, I cannot bring myself to lift my eyes away from her.

"Erm L?" she says, nervously waving a hand in front of my face, a slight pink blush staining her cheeks. Waking from my trance, I swiftly divert my gaze onto Watari's potted plant stood up on a small table instead, before holding open the front door in our departure.

Rain's POV:

L and I ended up strolling until we reached a park, and I don't know how he's doing it, but somehow he's crouching on a swing. _On a swing!_ I'm currently debating whether I should push him over, but if he topples off and whacks his head on the ground, I can't be sure that he would resist from using capoeira to disable me.

I have no choice but to assume that L is as quiet and antisocial as I am, as the lack of conversation lies thickly between us like a layer of snow. And yet despite this, with L I don't feel the need to fill the silence with endless chatter. There's some comfort in the silence. Maybe it's because I hate being bombarded with mindless chatter anyway, but a tiny voice in my head is suggesting that it's because the great detective L is still merely human.

I sigh push my swing slightly, rocking back and forth gently whilst admiring the autumnal golden leaves as they twirl like crashing planes, from the twisted branches only to cascade softly onto the ground in an earthy heap... until a 12 year old with braces ruins it by stamping on them. Brilliant.

"Rain." L says, disrupting my deep thinking.

"Hmm?" I turn my head to him, only to find him staring at the ground, eyes unfocused, yet still bright with clarity somewhat.

"You need stop wearing those clothes." L states, factually.

"Excuse me?" I retort, my eyes narrowing and my tone sharp at the little comment, unsure of where he could be going with it. All this time, the world's greatest detective has been engaged within the deep cavern of his genius mind, only to deduce that he disagrees with my clothing tastes.

His eyes widen slightly, probably in realisation that he's dug himself a hole, and there is an ever so slight glimmer of discomfort when he attempts to clarify it, "What I meant was, you should wear uglier clothes."

I don't know whether to punch him or interrogate him.

I almost send him a glare filled with razors and citrus juice, until I hear him mutter under his breath so that only I could distinguish his words.

"They're staring at you...and I don't like it."

Surprised by his words, I lift my head, peering around until my eyes settled on a ruffian looking group of young men around my own age, if not slightly older, whom were staring at me with a glint of something that sparked discomfort in my stomach. Their dark eyes trailed over my figure in my dress, gaze lingering on the exposed skin of my legs, until their eyes met my shocked stare. Something almost like fear triggered a sickening sensation within me, as I realised exactly what was glimmering in their eyes...hunger.

The nauseating feeling in my belly grew like wildfire, and all I knew was that I wanted to escape their lecherous eyes, like leering skulls. The muscles in my throat tightened, and my fists clenched, but then something snapped me from my nightmare. As if reading my mind, L's hand wrapped around my elbow, tugging me away from the swings, never stopping until we had completely left the park.

He continues to almost pull me along the pavement, further away from the delinquents, and their unsettling stares, but then he changes direction, and pulls me into a small quaint ice cream parlour on a street corner. A plump woman with deep brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail smiles at us enthusiastically as we enter, giving off the aura of a motherly figure. I sneak a glance up at L who is already eyeing the ice cream as if mentally debating which flavour would taste the best. However, instead of placing an order, he gently places his fingers on my back, pushing me further toward the counter.

"Which flavour?" He asks me.

I bite my lip, having difficulty choosing the best flavour. "Cookie dough." I finally say, mouth salivating at the sight of the lovely ice cream with large chunks of chocolate chip cookie.

The woman beams at me, before turning to L "Anything for the gentleman?"

Unable to entirely resist, I snort at the question, laughing quietly into my hand. Clearly she has no idea of the situation she's created for herself by that question.

The woman's smile falters slightly in confusion, not unjustified though as she is unable to understand the joke. But, once L demands a scoop of each and every flavour, her eyes widen in realisation at my ungraceful outburst.

Sighing, I lean against the glass of the counter, as the woman works the hardest that she ever has in order to deliver L's ridiculous order. I can't help but notice, that only very recently since we first met face to face, he's been losing himself within his thoughts. Not that he didn't have the habit previously, but it seems deeper somewhat. It's as if he's conflicted.

The woman stands back - now adorning a frown - finally finishes L's humongous order, and gestures wearily to the many little pots of ice cream resting on the top of the counter, displaying an array of colour, and containing a rainbow of flavour. I assist L at escorting the little pots to a small table in the corner beside the shop window. Sliding into a chair beside L, I observe that he's already submitted to temptation, and has already started on a soft green scoop...pistachio.

I carve out a chunk of cookie dough from my ice cream, savouring the sugary flavour and the doughy texture, until I quickly glance up from my little ice cream shovel, only to double take.

L's pace of eating has dramatically slowed. So much so, to the point that he's now staring penetratingly at the ice cream in front of him.

"Are you okay, L. I've noticed you've been distracted lately. Are you working on a particularly difficult case?"

He doesn't respond immediately, but after a couple of seconds, I hear "Do they usually stare at you like that?"

I freeze, taken aback by the notion that he's so bothered. _If he weren't there to drag me away_...The thought makes me shudder. Normally, I just assume that nobody really cares too much if anything unfortunate happens to me, and even if they did seem to be, it's usually in polite consideration.

He tilts his head, his eyes now focusing on something imprecise behind me "Do you always get that kind of attention?"

I smirk in an attempt to lighten the mood a little, "Why? Is the great detective jealous?"

His eyes flicker to mine, as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, "Not at all."

Suddenly my smile turns dismal, as I divert my eyes to the window, lost in thought "I probably deserve someone like those boys anyway."

"No." L states, his voice quiet yet with a definite certainty that causes my attention to return to him. A scowl disfigures his otherwise quite attractive features, as he adds "They're not good enough."

"Not good enough?" I repeat, almost confused.

"For you." He concludes, staring intently at the table.

Slyly, I lean back on my chair, arms folded and utterly amused, "So then, L, who _is_ good enough for me?"

His dark, dark eyes meet mine directly, "I am."

Suddenly my heart hammers like a thousand blacksmiths within my chest, as the meaning behind his words hit me in the face. My brain explodes with crazy thoughts, insecurities, and disbelief over the new found information.

"Wha...What do you mean by that?"

L sighs and closes his eyes, "You're from Wammy's House. Watari chose you for a reason, so if you can't deduce the simple meaning behind those words, then maybe he made a mista- "

"I know what you meant!" I protest, "I just...I just don't understand."

My thoughts are running rampant and unruly through my head, as if hundreds of bombs detonated all within one split second, and I can't bring myself to react properly.

"I...You don't want me, L." My words stammer in a incomprehensible manic rush, "All I do is cause problems for others. You saw what happened the last time something triggered me; I'm a time bomb. That'll just happen again and again, until you get bored of having to pull me away from the edge, and then you'll want to get rid of me. But you're a good person so you won't be able to say it, and then I'll end up being strung along, until you finally admit that you're leaving me. And then-"

L holds a hand up to silence me, "Honestly, are my feeling reciprocated?"

Within a second, I realise what's been lurking under my nose since I first met L through the laptop. He didn't have to insist on becoming friends with me, but he did. He didn't have to care about me to that extent, but he did. He didn't have to travel all the way to Wammy's just to drag my idiotic ass out of a bath, but he did...and I don't have to care about him.

_But you do_, a voice in my head whispers, _You need him..._

And without even having to listen to the voice, I know that I agree. I have never agreed more. He appeared in my life at one of it's loneliest points, and like Dylan, accepted me into his world regardless, and I...

_You fell in love..._

"Yes."

As soon as the words escape, L's lips crash into mine, in a heart-pounding, but chaste kiss. My nerves spike dangerously, as all logical reasoning dissipates, and the only thing that my mind can focus on, is L's clumsy inexperienced kiss...and yet, it's sweeter than any ice cream I've ever tasted. He pulls away gently, as we both drown in awkwardness.

"Rain." He murmurs, breaking the tension, "It's not possible for me to leave you for your imperfections," He hesitates, "because you're perfect to me."


	18. Chapter 18

I want to stay like this forever, with L in our own private bubble away from all forms of harsh reality, however L's phone seems to have other plans. The default ringtone blares suddenly from L's pocket, resulting in every bone in my body jumping up in shock. And just like that, my first kiss is ruined.

L seems to somehow retain his blank mask, despite the unwelcome intrusion. However on closer inspection, when I see the slight downward turn of his mouth, combined with the cold hard wall that has found its way into his black eyes, I realise that in actuality, he's annoyed as hell. With reluctance, he pulls his phone from his jeans pocket, holding it gingerly between his thumb and finger.

"Hello." He answers, with an unspoken curse aimed toward the ringer.

He looks as though an unknown perpetrator has raided his stash of sugary snacks, before throwing a grenade into the pile.

Suddenly, his eyes widen a little, and a ghost of a smile flickers across his lips.

"Yes" He replies to whoever is on the other end "We'll be right there after we've finished eating." With the grace of an elephant, L shoves the phone back into his pocket, and lifts his large eyes to meet mine.

"I'm guessing that was Watari?"

"Yes, he claims that he went back to Wammy's to see how things were, and there were two little people who insisted on seeing you immediately...and obviously he couldn't resist."

He watches, amusedly, as his words register in my brain, causing a large, excited grin to slowly spread across my face. "Near and Mello are at the house?"

"Yes." he answers, shovelling down ice cream at an alarmingly fast pace. He gestures with his free hand to the cookie-dough ice cream in front of me "The sooner you finish eating, the sooner you can see them."

The woman behind the counter gapes in horrified surprise, as L and I literally scarf down the ice cream, melted trails dripping from our chins onto the table top. Much to my surprise, he even allows me to eat some of his, which I take to be a sincere form of affection; I can't for the life of me, imagine L sharing his desserts with anyone. As we stand to leave, chairs screeching against the oak floor, the woman's frown deepens in confusion, as I wail incessantly about brain freeze.

* * *

L reaches out his pale slender hand, to unlock the front door of the house with his key, only to hold it open politely for me to enter first. For someone with extremely limited social contact, he's actually quite the gentleman.

I have only finished pulling my other foot from my shoe, when all of a sudden there is a dash of golden blonde hair before a small, thin pair of arms is thrown around my waist, holding me in a crushing grip. After a second of momentary shock, I glance down, confirming that Mello is the culprit, clinging to me like I'm a lost favourite toy. His icy eyes are closed, and scrunched up, like the rest of his expression, in an obvious display of distress. Somehow, it is distinctly odd that Mello is willing to reveal his inner affliction; a stark contrast to his usually prideful image of superiority, despite his secret feelings of inferiority. I guess my near-death incident must've really shaken him.

"Mello." I whisper gently, my fingers ruffling his blonde bob affectionately.

Mello's slim arms tighten for a fraction, before he releases me from his hold with a small nod of understanding.

Glancing into the living room, I notice the white pyjama-clad Near sitting on the carpet, playing with a wooden train set. His face is a usual image of blankness; an expressionless void, yet his little shoulders are hunched, and when I look carefully enough, I see that his mouth is set in a grim line. Whilst he seems oblivious to the fact that I'm slowly making my way over to him, I know that he came here for a reason, and it's not just to ignore me. Near isn't like that. He just feels betrayed. I betrayed him.

I slump to my knees beside him, eyes focused on his fingers clenched around a canary yellow painted train.

"You tried to leave." He mutters, outright refusing to even turn toward me.

I feel the press of Mello's icy gaze on the pair of us, and even though it's most likely directed toward Near, I cannot help but feel as though his cold stare is a sign of blame toward me. With shame and guilt swirling at the pit of my stomach, I lower my head in surrender.

"I know" I whisper bleakly, the sheer force of his grief at having witnessed me in such a state, hitting me directly like a tsunami. My eyes close tightly, as words repeat on a continuous loop through my head. _Stupid Rayne...Stupid Rain...Stupid me...Always breaking promises...Always hurting people...Always ruining their lives...I hate me..._

Before I realise it, my fingers pull away from the carpet, and find their way to my hair, where they grab the chocolate strands in fistfuls, pulling until my scalp stings and burns from the pain.

"Rain" L's voice calls out distantly from the doorway, the tone holding a ever so slight shred of panic. I don't hear it. I don't listen.

Suddenly, there is a light pressure on my fingers, providing a cool, soothing outlet for the sweltering heat of my frazzled mind. My eyes snap open, finding Near staring at me with a mixture of bewilderment and concern in his expression. His fingers slowly pry at my closed fists, in an attempt to untangle them from their wrestle with my hair.

"I'm so sorry Near." I whimper quietly "Back then, that wasn't me. I wasn't me, and it won't happen again, I promise."

Slowly, as if he's unsure of himself, he retracts his fingers from mine, and turns his body to face me, reaching his arms out to me without hesitation.

I pull him into a tight hug, as I realise that I'm forgiven.

* * *

For two hours, I am blessed with a strange sense of normality. Mello with his childish squabbling and the immature insults, and Near, whom insists on explaining to me the different types of trains and their history. It should be awkward between us, given recent events, yet it is as if Wammy's house suddenly moved places, swapped buildings, but the characters remained the same.

It doesn't last, even if I'd like it to, because Watari eventually concludes the evening by reminding them of the time. However, as they stand in the hall, coats on and shoes tied, they each reveal a small birthday gift to me; a bar of 75% cocoa chocolate, and a Rubix cube. Like L, Watari must've let it slip. In fact, that was probably the spine to their argument, in persuading Watari to let them visit me. Touched in the heart and stunned by their generosity, I pull them again into another embrace. After all, who knew that Mello would be willing to share his finest chocolate.

My heart shatters like the glass from a crumbling mirror, when Watari ushers them through the door and proceeds to escort them back to Wammy's in the sleek black car in which I first arrived to the orphanage in. The dull crumple of clothes indicates a presence behind me, and there is only one person whom it could be, but before I can turn to lock eyes, a familiar pair of pale hands take me by the shoulders and direct me to a couch where they push me gently into the soft fabric.

"Close your eyes"

I obey with suspense, wondering what on earth L was doing, as my ears fill with the sounds of scuffling and doors creaking open. He's searching for something? For a brief minute, the shuffles die out, only to be replaced by the plod of footsteps, growing increasingly louder by the second.

"Can I open them yet?" I inquire, as something rectangle, solid and smooth is slid into my palms.

"Open"

My eyes slowly open, to reveal a small, black box in my hands. I send L a look of curiosity, before flipping open the lid. A small silver locket, lay on the navy blue cushion, with an elegant arrangement of thin, intricate cherry blossom branches that twisted to form a letter 'L' .

My jaw drops open a little in silent amazement. It is quite clearly an antique, and the detail on the silver is astoundingly delicate, as if it had been slowly and carefully chipped away at for years by the hands of a craftsman. All of my words freeze in my mouth, even though I want to tell him that I love it so much that it hurts. I gaze up at L in wonder, and gratitude, but L's simply presses his thumb to his lips, secretly marvelling at my reaction.

"I think it was my mothers." L mumbles through his thumb, "It was in my pocket when Watari found me as a child. I'm 100% certain that the 'L' stands for Lawliet."

I frown, all my logical reasoning lost in befuddlement "Lawliet?"

L removes his thumb from his lip, and reaches over the back of the couch to take hold of the necklace from between my fingers.

"Lawliet" he explains, draping the locket around my neck, and clasping it together at the back "Is my real surname."

"So, if Lawliet's your surname, then what's your first name?"

"I don't have a first name" His hands return to the depths of his jeans pockets, as his posture returns to its casual slouch. "Watari found me as a nameless orphan. I knew that my surname was Lawliet, but I had no idea what my first name was. If my mother had actually given me a name, I didn't know what it was." He pauses, hesitating for a second. "So technically, because 'L' is the first name I have ever been given, my full name is L Lawliet."

Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Thank you, L. I love it, I really, really do" I whisper, smiling.

"You're welcome" he replies, with a trace of a smile "There is no one else in the world who I would give that necklace to."


	19. Chapter 19

Back then, when I'd picked up the envelope - sodden and spattered with rain from its long journey - I'd only taken one glance at the numerous international stamps, before the familiar swirl of dread had pitted itself in my stomach. I knew it immediately. He had always been one for thinking and planning in advance. Especially in the worst case scenario. But I had to know for certain, in his writing, that it was true. I needed the truth, in order to accept the circumstances, even if I knew deep down, that the blow could never be softened.

Clutching the envelope, crinkled in places, I'd traced the litter of stamps back to the original country of origin. Japan. Of course. That's where Kira was. Where L was. And where was I? Still back in England, where Kira had no idea of my existence. Naturally, when he'd first set off on the next flight to Japan, I'd practically insisted on accompanying him, as we both knew that I could help bring down Kira. It was too dangerous, apparently. Much too risky, according to L. He'd muttered something about a weapon and bargaining, but I didn't need to hear his exact words to get the idea of why he outright refused my assistance.

And yet, it had never been said out loud, even though it was a clear possibility that lingered in the back of our heads. We both knew, back then, as we stood in the airport, that there was a chance that...

I can't say it now, even to myself.

So, despite already being able to predict the contents of the letter, I'd carefully opened it anyway, in order to see in words, exactly what I'd been fearing.

_Rain,_

_If you've received this letter, it means that the worst has come to pass, and that I'm no longer alive. And it's highly likely that Kira is my murderer, although I cannot tell you that for certain, because one cannot accurately predict one's own death. However, I want you to promise me something, Rain, and never go back on that promise. Do not try to bring down Kira. I've known you for years now, and it is clear as day to me that you will definitely seek revenge on Kira. But I don't want you to do that. _

_I would've brought you to Japan with me, but as you probably realised, Kira could've used you as a tool to bring me down. And if he can kill me without going through you, then I'd hate to think of what he could do to you. Having known about your past, I'd spent all those years with you trying to establish a sense of normalcy, because I knew that you deserved it. That's why I gave you only low-key cases to work on. Not because I didn't want you to have ambition, but because I knew that you would want a calm future. And even a family of your own. Yes Rain, I'd seen the pregnancy test in the bathroom bin. Whether you were too scared to tell me, or whether you were afraid of the future, I'm glad that I could be part of your new family. _

_I don't think I even have to say those words for you to know it. _

_L Lawliet._

When I had first finished reading the words on the page, I broke down. My entire world collapsed in on itself like a landslide and crushed me flat. All the pain and suffering that I had experienced in the past could not measure up to the black pit of immense grief that swallowed me whole.

Having collapsed to the carpet, I must've sat there for hours, never quite coming to terms with how someone can exist one minute, only to dissapear in the next. How is it possible that someone with memories and experiences, feelings and thoughts can just cease to exist? How can that just happen within one split millisecond between life and death?

I had stormed out of the house, leaving behind my coat. The sharpness of the evening air had prickled my skin, leaving goosebumps, as I walked and walked for an immeasurable distance. Escape. That was what I had needed. Something to wake me up, hit me over the head, and remind me that this was just one horrific nightmare.

I could've been a better person. I should have stopped him, _begged _him not to go after Kira. I could've given him more than what I had. That stupid man, who could've done anything, gone anywhere, had simply just allowed me to limit him. He'd probably felt as though he'd been bound by an invisible duty to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. Whether it be to overspend until my wages were dry, or hiding small blades and knives inside my pillowcase, only for Watari to discover them. Even when I'd exploded into a fit of rage, throwing books at him which he'd caught in one hand as though it were an everyday occurrence, only to curl up in despair within a moment.

One time, I'd shrieked at the bathroom mirror, and L's heavy thump of footsteps had shook the floorboards until he'd burst around the corner and stared at me to inspect for damage or injury.

"That's not my face!" I'd sobbed, watching with steady tears as the stranger in the mirror imitated me perfectly. It was an imposter!

L had frowned slightly, "Yes it is. That's you, and that's me behind you."

But I'd only cried harder with trembling fingertips and insisted that it definitely wasn't my face. He'd quietly taken hold of my wrist and guided me out of the bathroom, muttering "Don't look at it. Help me with this case instead."

He shouldn't have had to put up with that. With my nonsense. And he deserved much better than someone who couldn't even save him from Kira.

I stood next to the railing, staring at the flow of the river beneath my feet. The sound of the gushing water was a crystal silver that only sparked more tears than before. I stepped closer to the edge, fingers clutching onto the locket around my neck, and was about to climb through and jump straight into the river, but then I stopped.

I stopped.

What a selfish thing to do. What a terrible human being I am. L died, believing that I am safe from Kira. he fought his hardest to give me normalcy, he gave me a _family_, and I was to try and throw it away within one jump. I climbed away from the railing and stood in the centre of the bridge, looking up at the moonlight that shimmered across the silver surface of the water. There _is_ hope. Of all people, I should know that. If hope didn't exist, I wouldn't have met L at Wammy's. He wouldn't have kicked open the bathroom door at just the right second that I managed to survive.

I stood there for a while, looking up at the moon and wondering what it would be like to experience a life that is full of perfection, but that doesn't happen. Nobody experiences perfection, because without pain, we cannot appreciate the beauty.

It would've been so easy to jump, and find L again in the next life. But that would be wrong of me. And I realised, with a startling new-found clarity, that it just wasn't my time.

With my fingers resting against my stomach, tapping lightly the notes to a silent tune, I realised that there is hope.

* * *

**A.N: Well, it's been a while. This is the final chapter, although please note that I'll be putting up an epilogue. **

**If it isn't clear, this final chapter takes place years later, just after Light kills L. I know that you didn't want me to kill off L, but I really hate it when people make it so that he has a secret house under his grave or something. I feel like I have to end this story quickly, not to be mean, but because it really isn't my favourite and I've much improved my writing nowadays, so this story is like an embarrassing insight into the mind of me from years previous. Not to mention, Death Note isn't really one of my favourite anime anymore, ever since discovered Monster, Mushishi and Cowboy Bebop. Also, I started University, so I don't have much time now to write, and my other creations have suffered too from my immense lack of time. **

**I also partially ended it like this because I really don't like the thought that L died a virgin. It's kind of sad. **

**Oh, and has anyone seen the new Death Note miniseries? I didn't watch the full series, but L is really...well...*begins blushing* and his personality is much cooler. Not that L originally wasn't cool, it's just that if you saw a real human being with L's little habits and behaviours, you'd probably try and avoid them. However, I really didn't like how Near and Mello were portrayed. I liked the idea of Near having a creepy Mello doll, rather than his little finger puppets, but I want a live action Death Note with Mello as an actual character, rather than Near's alter ego. And it seemed a little stupid to have a very obvious girl play Near and Mello simultaneously, whilst putting on a man voice. **


	20. Epilogue

Mello stood in the corner store, in the chocolate aisle to be precise. The way Near had been looking down on him, as though he were a mere jigsaw piece, and the inevitable outcome of the Kira case...His role in the case...The frustration had been building and shaping for much too long now, and it was almost time. He already knew what he had to do in order to bring down Kira, even if it involved leaving the rest to Near - a distasteful idea that made nausea bubble in his stomach. He knew that he would be risking his life for Near's benefit, and that alone made his teeth clench and his head pound. He balled his fists in irritation, staring hard at the various brands of chocolate. It was frustrating times like this when he needed chocolate the most, but there were too many types to choose from. Too many delicious flavours. He licked his lips, cherishing the thought, his hand hovering over the shelves in contemplation.

Just as he was about to reach out and select a bar at random, something touched his leg. A small hand? He peered down to discover a small person with a small hand? A little girl, merely more than a toddler, with short brown hair, tied in a small ponytail, and glinting in a certain light, the colour of a deep chestnut. He stared in astonishment at this tiny person, with her pudgy fingers touching the leather of his trousers in curiosity. And to his apprehension, she gazed up at him, revealing large slate grey eyes, both piercing and wise.

Mello's jaw dropped in shock. Those eyes, he'd seen them before. They were so familiar, but distant. A distant memory. The closest thing to a family he'd ever had.

Suddenly the girl turned and waddled back down the aisle towards a young woman, in her mid twenties who he assumed was the mother. She scooped up the girl, mouthing a 'Sorry' to him and smiling with a kiss to her daughter's tiny nose.

Something jolted through him. That smile. He knew that woman's smile. He knew those grey eyes. Haunting at the back of his mind, and teasing him on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn't put his finger on it.

Mello was known for being an opportunist, and so when she moved onto the aisle behind his, he crept along the shelves, his fingers running along the edge. It was probably low of him to be spying on an innocent young woman through rows and rows of chocolate bars. Near would definitely think so. With a grit of his teeth, he shook his head. Near was no better with his disgusting habit of using human beings as tools. Not to mention, the way that he creates creepy finger puppets resembling those closely related to him.

Through the gap, he analysed her hair, the same shade as her daughters. Her eyes, as dark as her hair, but not too unfriendly. They were an extremely familiar colour in fact, but despite racking his brain, he just couldn't form the woman, this _stupid_ woman, was really starting to aggravate him.

But glancing down, he noted that she had a thin chain around her neck. A necklace. Under normal circumstances, he didn't really care for trivial things like jewellery, unless it was made out of leather, of course. And so he proceeded at first to dismiss the locket…only for his eyes to snap back as the memory slapped him in the face.

_The locket!_

It was one of a kind; silver with an intricate 'L' carved within the design. This locket, he'd seen many times before in his life. He also knew exactly who L had given it to, and he knew precisely who had worn it in his memories.

"Rain?" he thought aloud, with surprise and amazement.

Her head shot up, peering over both her shoulders, probably wondering who on earth could have called out her alias with such confidence. He shifted in his hiding place, but the rub of leather against leather must've been loud, because her eyes lifted directly to meet his across the rows of chocolate. For a moment, she disappeared from sight, but soon after, he heard her steps as she rounded the end of the aisle, facing him with the same extent of confusion and disbelief as him. He tried his best to smile, the same way that he used to whenever he saw her, but her eyes quickly washed over his appearance.

Slowly, she edged forward, whispering his name, "Mello?"

He grinned wider, and her expression broke into what he recognised to be relief. Rushing forward, with her child safely tucked against her side, she gave him a one armed hug. Mello, in return clutched onto her, in realisation of how much he had missed the girl who was such a sisterly figure to him. Careful not to drop the little girl, she pulled away from him, glancing down at his clothes. At this, he frowned. His appearance didn't seem particularly unusual to him.

Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to speak her first real words to him in years, "Why do you look like a badass Willy Wonka?"

He snorted. Clearly she hadn't lost her sense of humour over time. Slyly, he challenged her. "Why do you have a mini L?" With one gloved hand, he gestured to the little girl who stared at him in fixation.

Rain laughed, before taking a step closer, and angling the girl towards him. "Mello, meet Autumn, the mini L." Bouncing the girl once, she added, "Autumn, this is uncle Mello". The girl - Autumn - reached out a hand grabbing a fistful of his blonde hair. She beamed at him, before pressing a tiny hand to his face, and traced over the large scar.

"What happened to your face?" Rain gasped only now noticing it hidden within the shadows of his hood.

"Explosion…kira case." He decided to keep it short, in hope that he wouldn't accidentally reveal any more of his...risky lifestyle.

She gave a tut under her breath, before gently reaching out to analyse his scar with her fingertips. Normally, this would be an unacceptable gesture under every circumstance. But this was Rain. The circumstances had changed. However, what didn't change, was his severe loathing for the puckered up skin. The scar was not only a disgusting unsightly thing; it was a constant burning reminder of his failure.

"How's Near doing?" she inquired, still tapping at his scar, as if she could erase it out of sheer willpower.

"Obnoxious, as always. He's working to catch Kira, obviously, but he's still an infuriating brat" She briefly glared at him for that comment, but before she could say anything, he interrupted her, by taking her hand and pulling it away from his scar. "He hasn't been blown up yet though, but that can be easily arranged. Just say the word…"

"How old are you?" she asked, with barely restrained suspicion.

"Nineteen"

She raised her eyebrows, "nineteen and you're blowing things up? What did you do all these years? Join the Mafia?"

He didn't answer, only meeting her eyes with a slight pleading for forgiveness, but her eyes widened as she realised just how correct her guess was. Desperately, he wanted to change the subject. For the first time since he'd left Near at Wammy's house, he felt ashamed of his decisions, in particular his relations with the mafia and his kidnap of Sayu Yagami, most likely because he knew from Rain's frown, that she definitely wasn't impressed.

"She looks like her dad" he commented, nodding towards Autumn, who seemed preoccupied with chewing on her coat sleeve.

"Yeah, she does doesn't she?" She glanced between him and Autumn, just as Autumn reached out to him, and grasped the black feathers which edged the hood of his coat. The action was so strange, so _normal _that he barely even heard Rain speak when she laughed at him. "I think she likes you." She said, trying to restrain herself as Mello looked so far out of his comfort zone that he stared at the floor, most likely in his happy place. He hadn't had much experience with children, except those who were old enough to attend Wammy's House. But this wasn't just any child. Hesitantly, he peered at Rain's face, outwardly pleasant and cheerful enough towards him, but he could see, on deeper inspection, a glint of sadness in the corner of her eyes.

"You want to catch Kira to avenge L, don't you?" he concluded, folding his arms as his eyes narrowed.

She sighed, her face now weighed down since he'd looked straight through her façade. "Is it obvious?"

He shook his head. Somehow, she'd succeded in getting him all riled up again. "There's a reason that L kept you here, and never mentioned you to anyone, you know?. By trying to hunt down Kira, you're just going against everything he wanted for you. You're going against what you always wanted." Quickly, his pale blue eyes flickered to her daughter.

She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he continued as if he hadn't noticed at all.

"He went to massive lengths to keep Kira from finding out about you, so why would you want to ruin that? Do you know how annoyed he would be if you attempted something like that? And plus, you have a child. Going after Kira would put her in serious danger...Psch, and you think I'm irresponsible..."

She growled in frustration that he hadn't even bothered to hear her out. Still the same stubborn-mule-Mello. "Of course I know that! I'm not an idiot! That's why I haven't done anything!" She glanced at Lily, and her eyes softened considerably "And I'm happy as it is, staying as a small-time detective like L taught me, with a family now, even if I wish that L was still here to see her."

He was about to sigh with relief, but his phone vibrated in his pocket, much to his frazzled patience. Reaching in and dragging it out with the reluctance of a moody teenager, he found that Halle was trying to contact him again. She probably had new information for him. As interesting as he found Halle, it meant that he'd have to cut his little rendezvous with Rain short...even if he knew that they may never cross paths again.

Groaning, he turned back to Rain, and having seen his contemplative expression she already knew what he was going to say before the words had left his lips.

"You have to go?"

He nodded blankly, although secretly wishing that he could catch up even more with her instead.

"Well then, maybe we'll see eachother again sometime" She beamed, and he nodded even though a pang of doubt made it's presence known in the very pit of his stomach.

He would've hugged her, but he knew that he would never leave if he did. So instead, he bid her goodbye with another nod of the head and reluctantly left the shop with a swing of the door. With Kira hot on his tail, he knew that he could drop dead at any moment - his keeping the photograph was not a guarantee of his safety - so he was glad that he managed to see Rain again after so many years. Although he had entered the shop looking for chocolate, he felt happier than chocolate had ever made him.

He was ready for Death.

* * *

**A.N: Well I guess this is the end of the line for this story then, as depressing as I've ended it. But just to say, if you've read this far, then thank you very much. If you've been one of the regular comment crew *I thought I'd nickname you all* then thank you very very much, because your comments are like golden stardust to me. I always looked forward to them. **

**On a different thought, I was thinking recently about the general assumption that L and Near/Mello never actually met in person. People always said this, but I had a brainwave in the shower one day, and it hit me. Near has a finger puppet of L. But L works through his computer. So, Near - I'm not sure about Mello - must've at some point met L, because how else would he know exactly what L looked like?**

**I can't believe I missed that...**

**Anyway, if any of my readers happen to be a Naruto Sasusaku fan/shipper as well, then feel free to check out my Naruto SS fics, because It's the only other anime/manga that I've written fanfiction for. **

**This is the end, so thank you and adieu xxx **


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